Xeno
by reddwarfaddict
Summary: Pre-Partners In Crime Donna is still looking for the Doctor when a UFO crash lands outside of Downing Street, which might just be related to him. Trouble is, the human race is about to be the victim of genocide, and the Doctor can't speak English. 10Whump H/C
1. Donna Noble, Health and Safety

**A/N: **I've always been fascinated with the premise of how language is handled in the show between people who couldn't ordinarily have a conversation and how that impacts the viewer/reader (you can tell I study English, can't you). I thought it might be interesting to insert a very firm language barrier in-between lots of different people for the duration of an entire story. I've done this briefly before with the Doctor, but now let's totally go nuts on it.

It's also been a while since I wrote for Donna, so forgive me for any strange sentences whilst I reprogram my brain from Rose :P

**Canon is pre-Partner's in Crime A/U, where Donna is still looking for the Doctor.**

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><p><span>Chapter 1 - Donna Noble, Health and Safety<span>

"No, you can't do this!"

The Kryx sneered at the Doctor, its sharp teeth bared to the helpless Time Lord standing below him. It hissed like the snake it resembled, truly amused at the Doctor's pleas. It didn't reply.

"There are people living down there!" the Doctor continued, throwing out his arm to the window of the room where planet Earth was sat comfortably in the distance. "An entire species!"

The Kryx sneered once again, his long thin tongue flickering. This time, it hissed a reply in a snake-like alien language.

The Doctor scowled at the answer. He clearly wasn't getting through. "Pathetic or not, they're still a race and you're about to commit genocide!"

The Kryx threw back its head, hissing with laughter before speaking again.

"This isn't the solution! Find a barren planet!" the Doctor said, getting angry now. "Terraform it! If you do this, it's illegal, do you really want the Shadow Proclamation on your backs?"

The Kryx hissed once more in reply, and threw out a tentacle to the Doctor. The Doctor's eyes flickered, catching the sight of three Kryx moving straight towards him with stun guns in hand. He quickly held up his hands, backing away.

"I'm not your enemy, I'm trying to help you!" he insisted. "I know you're angry, I know you're hurting, but there are other ways you can resolve this! You don't need…"

Before he could get any further there was suddenly the sound of a discharged stun gun, and immediately he realised that his entire body had abruptly stopped working. His arms fell redundantly to his sides, his legs gave way, and seconds later he hit the floor with a _thunk._

He tried to speak again, but his jaw wasn't complying with the movements he was trying to make. He couldn't move a single limb or appendage. He was a floppy rag doll, only able to breath and move his eyes...

This was bad. Many suitcases full of bad.

He tried desperately to talk again, but his best weapon - his gift of the gab - the one thing he relied on most in the world to get him out of situations of this magnitude was rendered useless. And him? He was _helpless._

He could do nothing but lie there as the three Kryx reached him, grabbing him by the arms and the legs and carrying his useless body out of the main room of the Kryx ship. They took him down a corridor, then left, and from his exploration of the ship before he already knew where they were taking him. Escape pods.

They weren't going to kill him. They were going to let him escape? Why weren't they killing him?

They loaded him in one, disregarding the safety belts. Another one leant forward in front of him to the control panel, hammering through the menus. The Doctor's eyes followed its every action - it was going into destinations. It scanned the local area, and then without hesitation it selected Earth.

They were sending him to Earth? Why…

His thought trail was interrupted when the Kryx went into the system settings. Going into system settings was never good in the Doctor's book, and once again his book was right. The Kryx went straight to the safeties, and with a tap and a grin at the Doctor, it turned them off.

Then he was let go, the Kryx departed and sealed the hatch. The Doctor was immediately cast into deep darkness - the only light coming from the monitor in front of him, informing him that the safeties were off and maybe he should think about correcting that.

He still couldn't move. He couldn't even make a noise. Even when the pod jettisoned and he was sent back with the G-Force against him he couldn't even moan. The pod stabilised, and at a uncomfortable 1500 miles per second he started his journey to Earth.

Only then did it dawn on him that he was a very squishy lifeform currently hurtling towards Earth in a faulty black market escape pod with the safeties turned off, paralysed with absolutely no hope of escape and that he was probably going to die.

Oh yes, and humanity was about to be wiped out by giant alien snakes.

He'd had better days than this.

* * *

><p>The alarm clock seemed to blare more loudly than it had ever before at 7:30am to rouse Donna Noble from her sleep. With a groan she turned over and slammed her palm in the vague direction of the snooze button - the shrill beeping immediately ceasing before she rolled back over and quickly fell asleep again.<p>

_BANG!_

That woke her up. She sat up immediately, jerked right out of her sleep. She could immediately hear car alarms blaring and the sounds of shouting coming from over the rooftops.

She got out of bed the quickest she had ever managed in her life, pulling on her dressing gown and running downstairs where her mum and granddad were already up and out the back door, staring up at the sky.

"What's going on?" she asked, following their gaze. There was a trail of smoke arcing across the sky, disappearing behind some buildings in the distance.

"Terrorists!" her mum said in alarm. "Dad, check the news!"

Wilf immediately turned and went back into the house, heading straight for the television with Donna in tow. It came on, but it was in the middle of a property show. Wilf urgently flicked through the channels, but as property show after property show flicked by, Donna was becoming less and less patient.

She used the time to run upstairs, get dressed and do her make-up in three minutes flat before tearing downstairs again to check the TV. Now it was in the middle of a newsflash, her mum and granddad perched on the sofas staring intently at the screen.

**NEWSFLASH: UNIDENTIFIED FLYING OBJECT HITS DOWNING STREET **the scrolling newsreel summarised as a nervous-looking man hovered outside the Downing Street gates, pandemonium behind him.

_"... And the Prime Minister and all residents and staff of Downing Street are alive and well. The object crashed at 7:36am this morning, but the nature of the threat is unclear. Police and firefighters are currently on the scene and the government emergency committee Cobra have been assembled…"_

Instead of becoming frightened like a sane person would have, Donna was very excited. UFO crashing in the centre of London? If this wasn't related to the Doctor, she didn't know what was.

Donna immediately grabbed the car keys from the kitchen table. "Mum, I'm taking the car!"

She made sure she was out the door before her mum began any form of protest.

* * *

><p>The Doctor woke up, and nearly passed out again.<p>

He found himself lying awkwardly, half off of the escape pod chair and half on the floor with his head turned up towards the central monitor, and all other limbs strewn out awkwardly. The instruments of the escape pod were blaring out beeps and lights of all colours of the rainbow in front of him, telling him the very obvious factor that the escape pod had crashed. The monitor was partially obscured by a splatter or two of blood and through his mixed-up head the Doctor really had to think for a moment as to whose blood it was... Until he finally came to the conclusion that it was probably his.

He tried to get up, but although he had control of his body once more it was still mostly numb. There were dull pains emanating from his arm, leg, neck and head, but he couldn't seem to be able to move his head to look. All he could see were the monitors and bit of metal caved in around him, each marked with a bit of blood to denote the areas he'd been thrown.

_I think I'm hurt._

Obviously he was hurt. Obviously. He had been in the escape pod, yes. They'd disengaged the safeties, and set him on a course for…

Earth.

The moment he realised, he began to panic. Had he crashed right into the middle of a city? He tried to get up again, this time with a brief yet excruciating moment of pain, managing to roll over in the tiny space using his left hand as his right didn't seem to want to comply. Almost immediately the pain heightened and he let out an unintentional cry, but force himself to keep moving slowly around the cramped space until he got into such a position that he could see what happened to his right arm.

The sight of it nearly made him pass out again.

_I think I'm a bit more hurt than I thought I was. _

That was the understatement of the century.

He tried not to observe it too hard, well aware that this wasn't the arm of some poor soul he'd just found, it was actually his. His own arm, attached to his own body, and the amount of blood that was coming out of its misshapen structure made it very obvious the artery had been severed and something very painful had happened to his elbow. He was almost glad he was still partially numb.

Forty minutes, if he remembered his Time Lord physiology lessons correctly. He had forty minutes to get back to the TARDIS and patch himself up before he ended up bleeding to death.

_But where's the TARDIS? _

The thought trail from that didn't lead anywhere good. It was back on the Kryx ship. His TARDIS was gone. So he had forty minutes to get back to that Kryx ship, starting from a planet that still thought going to the piddly distance to the Moon was a great achievement.

He did love humans, but they weren't half silly sometimes.

Either way, he had to go before he was discovered. He looked at the exit - smashed in, and there seemed to be no other way out. He reached up with his left hand, numb muscles only just managing to navigate towards the button to open the hatch.

It didn't work. But he'd already known that.

He psyched himself up, and quickly turned to lie on his back, trying to ignore the pain that came with it. It was only then he realised his foot didn't seem to be angling with the natural point of his body, and that it was in fact trapped in a mess of metal. In fact, the movement his leg was doing around it probably wasn't that natural either. He didn't know. He was too tired to think of the natural rotation of a foot.

_I'm actually severely injured and will die very soon if I don't get some help._

Yep, that was the conclusion of the day.

But there was no one to help. He didn't have Martha's phone, he couldn't contact Jack - he had no companion. He had no one. Not a single soul.

Yeah, he should probably start making his peace.

Suddenly there was a loud buzzing sound to his left where the hatch was. He tried to look, but one of his eyes had to close when he felt something warm trickle down from his forehead. He assumed that was more blood. It seemed to be the thing, here.

Then voices. He could suddenly hear voices. People were shouting, although muffled, but were quite clearly shouting. He could even hear sirens, and the blades of a helicopter above. The humans had obviously noticed the crash. He hoped it wasn't anywhere too obvious.

Well, at least they'd take him to hospital _before _they started the vivisection.

Seconds later the hatch came away and the Doctor found three men staring back at him.

He thought about introducing himself with an upbeat tone and a reassuring smile, but before he could even open his mouth he passed out.

* * *

><p>Donna had to abandon the car near Westminster Bridge as the streets were already absolutely packed with both cars and people. She used the tried and tested method of barging through the crowds and shouting loudly to get over the bridge, up the street and through to a barrier around twenty metres from Downing Street.<p>

The police were shouting for the crowds to keep away. From where she was standing Donna couldn't see a thing. She moved slowly around the crowd until he could see down the street, but most of it was blocked by cars.

She was just wondering what to do next, when suddenly she heard a shout - she didn't quite catch the words but it seemed to cue a tide of hysteria across the gathered officials.

"Oi! What's going on?" she yelled out, but her voice was lost in the chaos as the crowd's volume suddenly increased when an ambulance pulled up. That meant there was someone hurt. But the news had said all the people in Downing Street were accounted for…?

_There's a person inside the UFO._

Was it an alien? If it was, the Doctor was sure to be three steps behind it. She needed to get closer.

She spotted a man approaching the gates - a black-haired man in a long World War 2-style trenchcoat who looked like he knew what he was doing. A simple plan evolved in her mind - but one that would require quite a decent amount of bravery.

She pushed through the crowd again, striding confidently to join the man, hovering just behind as though part of a group with him.

"Torchwood, check with your superior," the man was saying to the policeman at the gate, waving an ID under his nose.

"I'm sorry, I can't let you in," the policeman stressed.

"I've got clearance," the man in the trenchcoat said.

"It's named people only and you're not on the list," the policeman said. "I'm sorry but I can't let you in."

"I think your boss is gonna be very annoyed when he founds out you turned me away."

"I can't risk that."

The man in the trenchcoat sighed. "Okay," was all he said, turned, and walked off.

Donna impulsively decided to follow him, but kept at an acceptable distance. He was sure to try and find someway of getting in there.

He walked down the street, around the corner and another corner, walking so fast Donna struggled to keep pace. But she managed it, following him all the way until he suddenly stopped and turned around so fast that Donna almost walked right into him.

"Can I help you?" he asked her, and now Donna could see him properly she realised he was actually very, very gorgeous.

For a moment she was somewhat stunned, before she quickly found herself and some words to say. "You're trying to see the body, right?"

He nodded slowly, looking her up and down in some sort of silent judgement. "I am."

"Well I am too," Donna said. "You need my help."

The man frowned. "What have you got to offer?"

Donna reached into her jacket, and pulled out an identity card. "Health and Safety."

The man gazed at the card for a moment, before slowly spreading a grin. "I like it. Okay," he said, and extended his hand. "I'm Cap'n Jack Harkness."

"I'm Donna, Donna Noble," she said, taking the hand to shake it. "So what's the plan?"


	2. Perks of the Job

**A/N: **Thank you for first reviews! You are awesome. I shall reply. Or try to. You know I'm terrible at that. But thanks! :D ... and I have no idea where this is going but I'm sure it's somewhere fun.

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><p><span>Chapter 2 - Perks of the Job<span>

As paramedics, Emma and Sam had seen and dealt with mangled bodies from car crashes, train wrecks, murders and suicides - sometimes bodies that barely resembled human form - and they had always managed to remain focused on the task and deal with the emotional consequences later. After twenty years of the job, Emma would go as far as to say that with the amount of things she'd seen she had almost been completely numbed to it. Sam had been in the emergency services even longer than her, and to begin with he had been her rock; supporting her until she became as numb as him.

But now Sam was the one breaking down at what was in front of him.

"It's an alien, it's an alien, it's a fucking alien," he was saying repeatedly under his breath, still clutching his stethoscope in a white-knuckle death grip from when he had used it on the person earlier. Emma looked at him, and then at the person. The firemen had managed to extract the being they had found inside, who had remained unconscious for the entire duration. It was now lying on the concrete, shirt still open from where they had begun the examination and rapidly realised that there was something really rather irregular internally. They had then immediately backed off as though they had touched a sleeping lion, leaving it - still bleeding - in the street. But Emma didn't need to examine it or know anything about alien physiology to know a major artery had been severed by its own broken bone and that wasn't good in any species.

Emma looked at Sam, her fists clenched and held to her face. "... But its hurt," she muttered. She didn't known when they had stopped calling the person a 'him'.

"Its body temperature is 16 fucking degrees and it's got two fucking hearts!" Sam breathed, utterly frozen to the spot.

"... We can't just leave it," Emma said, finding her sentence increasing in confidence as it progressed without her even forcing it.

"It's an _alien, _Emma!" Sam emphasised, his eyes snapping to her, wide and horrified. "Who knows what kinda alien diseases it's carrying!"

"But it's bleeding to death…"

"This isn't our area! We're waiting for the army!"

"And just let it bleed? It could be ages until they get here, it could be dead by then!" she insisted, her voice raising slightly.

Sam's eyes narrowed. "I'm your superior, and I'm telling you to _wait! _The army can deal with this! We don't even know if that's blood, it could be some kinda toxic bile thing!"

"Of course it's blood, Sam!" Emma said, exasperated, before she turned on her heel and started walking towards it. "I'm sorry but I can't wait. It might die."

"So!?" Sam yelled, launching out his hand to grab her arm.

"I'm a paramedic, Sam!" she said, pulling her arm away indignantly. "Nowhere in my job description does it say I'm only restricted to treating humans!"

"Please don't do this. Look at it, it's just gonna kill you, it's probably carnivorous!"

"This isn't a bloody science-fiction film, Sam!" she stressed. "I'm looking at it, and all I can see is something that looks very human about to go into hypovolemic shock that needs our help!"

She began to walk before Sam could grab her again. "Emma!" he shouted, but it was too late. She was nearly there.

Suddenly the alien's eyes flickered open, stopping Emma mid-step. She watched, slightly apprehensive as the alien looked directly at her... and in its eyes, she only saw pain and desperation.

_It's begging for help._

"Don't go near it, ma'am," a policeman suddenly said, holding out an arm from across the street. "Wait for the right authorities."

"Listen to him, Emma!" Sam implored desperately. She knew he wasn't just scared for himself. He was scared for her - what the alien might do to her.

"I'm sorry but I've got to help," she told the policeman.

"Step away," the policeman warned.

"Let me do my job," she begged. "Look, if it does shoot laser beams out its eyes it's my problem. And look at it. It can't exactly fight. It's obviously very badly injured and it can't take you all on. Shoot it dead if you must, but please let me try."

The policeman shifted uncomfortably. "I…"

He took too long to reply for her liking. She stepped forward again to the alien, holding up her hands defensively. She reached it, and dared to stoop to her haunches. It was still gazing at her, clearly in a severe amount of pain with its skin rapidly paling.

"Hello, I'm Emma," she began slowly, resting a hand on her own chest. "Can you speak our language?"

The alien suddenly made some strange noises that sounded like it was trying to talk, but couldn't quite gain enough energy to - its Adam's apple bobbing up and down. It probably didn't have the strength to reply even if it _did _speak English. Though they had just let it bleed for four solid minutes.

"I'm going to help you," she said softly, holding up her hands so it could see them, before slowly lowering her hand to rest her hand on its chest where the right heart was beating. "Please don't fry my brain or anything."

The alien didn't seem to care about her touching him, so she quickly got out her kit and tried to fathom the mess its right arm was in.

_First on the list - stem the bleeding. _

"Emma, don't do this, you don't know anything about its physiology!" Sam shouted, clearly still terrified.

"For God's sake, Sam!" she cried, annoyed. "Come here and look!"

"No way!"

She groaned in frustration, and keeping the pressure to the alien's artery, she moved so Sam could see what she was doing.

"Look. Skull. Maxilla. Mandible. Clavicle. Scapula. Sternum," she said, hovering a finger across each bone in turn. "Four fingers and an opposable thumb, naval, Adam's apple, five o'clock shadow. So _what _if it's got two hearts and a low body temperature, it's humanoid. That's enough for me."

Sam stared at her some more. The stethoscope was still being crushed in his grip.

Then he heaved a sigh, and moved forward.

"Fucking hell, Emma," he muttered under his breath, nervously dropping to the alien's side before he began to examine its incredibly swollen and discoloured ankle.

Emma nodded to herself, somewhat relieved she hadn't had to fight him for too long. "We'll just stabilise it, do what we can and get it in the ambulance."

Sam's head snapped up again. "But..."

"I don't care about the army," she interrupted rudely, moving up to its head. "Either they come in time or they don't, he's going to die if he doesn't get into surgery."

"He?" Sam repeated, pausing for a moment to look at her.

"He," she repeated positively, nodding.

After a moment, Sam returned the nod, and they began to do their jobs.

* * *

><p><em>Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.<em>

Martha Jones was rudely awoken by the sound of her mobile phone ringing, tearing her out of a very deep sleep. Blearily she looked at the digital clock next to her bed - **2:47am**.

She reached to her phone, and after a moment managed to locate the answer button. "Hello?" she croaked tiredly.

_"Miss Jones, Captain Erisa Magambo here from Unit HQ."_

"... Okay?" Martha eventually replied, her brain still half asleep.

_"I'm sure you've heard about the incident in London…"_

"The what?"

_"A UFO crashed just outside 10 Downing Street at 7:30am."_

That made her sit up. "Oh!"

_"Unfortunately UNIT weren't able to get on scene quickly enough, but they found a body inside the capsule - an alien body."_

"What? Have you checked it?"

_"We've so far been unable to access the lifeform. It's been treated on the scene by regular paramedics and escorted to the Royal Hope Hospital under guard," _the Captain told her. _"I am acting only on rumours for the moment, but the sustained injuries are apparently life threatening for a human. It's currently being scanned for emergency surgery."_

"Is there a xenobiologist on site?" Martha asked anxiously.

_"No, but there will be before the surgery commences. We need your expertise here to monitor it, Doctor Jones. Your flight leaves at 3:30am from JFK Airport. Your car is outside. See you soon."_

The phone call ended. Martha looked at the clock.

**2:49am.**

_Oh god._

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><p>Donna Noble was following Captain Jack to the Royal Hope Hospital, who seemingly knew where he was going and what he was doing. Donna had decided just to trust him. He had a strange air of gravitas about him that instantly made Donna feel like he was completely in control of absolutely everything and everyone in sight.<p>

_Hope he's as good as he looks…_

They reached the entrance to the Royal Hope, but unsurprisingly it was filled with police. Jack glanced at Donna, who nodded, and the both of them walked forward.

"Excuse me, sir!" a policeman said, apprehending them immediately.

Jack immediately seemed to shrink beside Donna. "Oh, I'm sorry sir," he said quietly. "Are we okay to get through?"

"There's no access today, there's a national emergency. I suggest you return home."

"But we've gotta get in there," Jack said.

"I'm sorry sir, not today."

The mission was starting to fail before it could even start, and Donna had to do something. On impulse, she took Jack's hand in both of hers and looked at the policeman, her eyes wide.

"But we have to get in there," she whispered, tears in her eyes. She was very good at crying on cue. "Please."

The policeman remained resolute. "I'm sorry, ma'am."

"But I have to see her!" Donna continued, a tear sliding down her cheek.

Jack drew her into a hug. "Don't worry sweetheart. She'll make it to Great Ormond Street. We'll see her then."

Donna sniffed loudly, looking at the policeman whose face had dropped slightly. "But my little Susie!"

"We'll see her tomorrow after the operation," Jack insisted, kissing Donna's forehead. Donna wasn't going to deny it. That act alone nearly blew her cover.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," the policeman said, his voice trembling. "How old is she?"

"Two," Jack and Donna both replied together immediately.

The policeman groaned slightly. "Oh god. Okay. Look, I'll let you in, but you have to be quiet. Keep away from any authorities."

Jack and Donna both looked up at him, their eyes shining. "Really?" Donna croaked.

"I've got a little girl too, god help me if I was in your situation," he said, stepping aside. "I wish Susie well. You both stay strong."

"Oh, thank you, sincerely," Jack said emotionally, and together he and Donna walked past the guards and into the hospital.

"God, I feel bad," Donna admitted, wiping at her eyes and straightening her jacket.

"You get used to it," Jack assured her. "Let's get some intelligence."

They'd hovered in a hall for a moment, just listening to the passing doctors and nurses conversing with each other in frantic whispers of an alien creature arriving at the hospital. They'd only had to stand there for four minutes until they had a location. The alien was on the premises, and was in CT.

They followed the signs through the hospital to the x-ray department with flashes of Donna's health and safety badge to bat away any unwelcome eyes. Health and safety had a strange way of either instilling fear or boring people so much they'd let you through.

It wasn't long before they hit another wall of guards, and this time they had faces of steel. They were obviously military.

Jack quickly backed off, holding Donna back. "Don't think we're getting through there. Not even health and safety."

"So what do we do?"

"Wait."

"Is that it?" Donna asked seriously.

"They're gonna be all over this alien like a rash. We won't get within twenty metres. We've gotta wait until they've finished surgery."

Donna looked at him, properly considering him for the first time. "... Why are you doing this?"

Jack looked at her. "I'm looking for a friend," was all he said.

"Me too," she agreed. "He's usually around this sort of stuff."

"... The Doctor?"

Donna's jaw dropped. "You know him?"

"Know him? We did shady things together in a Shamboni bar together in the year six billion," he said, grinning.

_Oh for god's sake, every hot one's gay._

"... Really?" she eventually managed to ask.

He laughed. "No."

_Phew._

"But I can dream," Jack added.

_Gah._

"He should've turned up by now," Jack continued casually. "I've just got this horrible feeling." He paused, before finishing with, "let's get a coffee."

* * *

><p>UNIT always seemed to have a way of tracking Martha down no matter where she was, and this time was no different. On the plane to London the air hostess had summoned her into the cockpit, sat her down in a chair where a computer interface was already subject to UNIT intrusion.<p>

**EM: MESSAGE FOR MARTHA JONES FROM UNIT HQ. PLEASE RESPOND**

Martha began to type.

**MJ: CORRESPONDENCE RECEIVED. DOCTOR MARTHA JONES UNIT ID 2094/B**

There was a short delay before another message appeared on the screen.

**EM: HELLO MARTHA, THIS IS CAPTAIN MAGAMBO. WE HAVE MORE INTELLIGENCE ON THE ALIEN**

**MJ: DESCRIBE IT**

**EM: NO NEED. IT'S THE DOCTOR**

Martha quickly drew breath, shocked. The Doctor had been in the UFO? He was in hospital?

_Stay calm._

**MJ: UNDERSTOOD**

She paused, the word blinking on the screen for a moment before she managed to find the words to complete the message.

**MJ: UNDERSTOOD. HE'S INJURED? TO WHAT EXTENT?**

**EM: WE'RE NOT CLEAR ON THE EXACT NATURE OF HIS INJURIES. WE HAVE AN AGENT ON-SITE BUT THEY CURRENTLY HAVE LIMITED INFORMATION. THOUGH WE BELIEVE THE INJURIES ARE LIFE THREATENING**

**MJ: SO HE'S NOT REGENERATED?**

**EM: NO**

**MJ: WHERE IS HE NOW?**

**EM: HE WAS MOVED TO SURGERY IN THE PAST COUPLE OF MINUTES. WE DON'T EXPECT HIM TO LEAVE FOR HOURS YET. WE'RE HAVING DIFFICULTY ACCESSING HIM AS THE OPERATION HAS BEEN PUT STRAIGHT INTO ARMY HANDS AND THEY ARE DEMANDING EXTREME LEVELS OF AUTHENTICATION FROM US TO ACCESS HIM**

**MJ: THEY CAN'T DO THAT**

**EM: NEW GOVERNMENT PAPERWORK…**

**MJ: YOU'VE GOT TO DELAY THE SURGERY, THESE PEOPLE WON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE DOING**

**EM: IF I MAY SPEAK ON A PERSONAL LEVEL, I KNOW YOU HAVE DEEP CONNECTIONS WITH THE DOCTOR BUT YOUR SUGGESTION IS IMPRACTICAL. AS FAR AS I AM INFORMED HE IS CRITICALLY INJURED AND ANY DELAY TO TREATMENT WILL NOT HELP HIS SURVIVAL CHANCES. WE HAVE TO TAKE A RISK**

**MJ: ACKNOWLEDGED. WE CAN'T LET THIS REACH THE PUBLIC**

**EM: IT'S TOO LATE FOR THAT**

**MJ: WHAT DO YOU MEAN?**

**EM: THIS IS BEING HIGHLY PUBLICISED. HE'S BEEN TAKEN TO A PUBLIC HOSPITAL AND THERE ARE ALREADY DOZENS OF PEOPLE AWARE OF WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE**

**MJ: WE NEED TO MOVE HIM TO A UNIT HOSPITAL ASAP**

**EM: I AGREE, AND I WILL LEAVE THAT UP TO YOUR DISCRETION WHEN YOU ARRIVE. OVER AND OUT**

The monitor switched off and Martha returned to her seat, her body suddenly completely tense. Over three thousand miles away the Doctor was utterly helpless in the hands of the army, with surgeons that knew absolutely nothing about an alien body poking his insides like little children poking into a new patch of dirt with wooden sticks to try and find what lived there.

_He can't die._

Martha grabbed the arms of her chair and gripped, hard, as she silently willed the plane to go faster.


	3. Quarantined

**A/N: **How absurdly fun was review reply? :D (insert nostalgic music) I remember the old days when we didn't have review reply, we had to reply to reviewers inside our A/Ns. Yes, I have been doing this fan fiction malarkey for that long. God forbid I ever stopped, I think my head would explode.

Anyway, that's unrelated. Next chapter! I'm up to my ears in chapters at the moment.

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><p><span>Chapter 3 - Quarantined<span>

Martha arrived at the Royal Hope hospital feeling beyond exhausted, but her desperation to reach the Doctor fuelled her half-walk, half-jog towards emergency surgery.

She was met by a weedy-looking UNIT man at the door, who took her aside to a private room out of ear's reach of everyone else.

"I've just been in there," he explained. "He's being worked on right now."

"They've fully planned this?" Martha asked quickly. "They've examined his scans and thoroughly planned?"

"I assume so," the man told her. "I'm not really sure."

Martha was starting to feel anger in the pit of her stomach. "Well, what do you know that's worth telling me?" she almost snapped.

"I can detail his injuries for you."

"Well come on, then!" she prompted, far too annoyed to care she was being rude.

"He's got a compound supracondylar fracture to his right elbow, which almost completely severed his brachial artery. His left ankle is dislocated and the leg fractured in two places, and presented with internal bleeding. He's also broken his neck, conforming to a Jefferson fracture, but the ligament's stable. He's sustained massive trauma to his head, the skull is fractured and the scan presented a subdural haematoma. We suspect there might be lesions and contusions on the brain from skull fragments. He's covered in incised wounds, avulsions and contusions. I'm sorry, Martha, but he's fighting for his life in there..."

* * *

><p>After much deliberation Jack and Donna had taken a back route around to the surgery and managed to get on the corridor leading to the operating theatre. Halfway down there had been voices coming from a small room to the side.<p>

Jack stopped Donna quickly, and concealed them under the window.

"... The surgeons are doing all they can but they're way out of their comfort zone," a man's voice said. "They won't give me any detail as to their procedures."

"This is _idiotic," _a woman said, and Jack recognised that voice. That was Martha Jones. She must have been flown over from New York. "We're Unit, he's still one of our staff, and we _still _get no information?"

"It's all wrapped up with the army and Cobra, now. The world's watching."

There was a brief pause. Jack heard Martha sigh. "... Has he been awake?"

"Apparently he was awake in short periods on two occasions but didn't display much coherence or capability of communicating."

"Any seizures or vomiting?"

"None."

"Okay, I'm going into surgery," a woman replied. "Thank you, and sorry."

"It's okay, ma'am," the man replied, and walked out the door. Jack and Donna quickly shrank back, and soon the man was gone. Seconds later, Martha followed, wiping at her eyes.

"Martha!" Jack said quickly, getting to his feet.

Martha did a double-take, looking at him in shock. "Jack? You shouldn't be here."

"Bit late for that," Jack replied, shrugging casually. "... Is it him?"

Martha quickly wiped at her eyes again. "Yes."

"God, I knew it," Jack muttered under his breath.

"Do you mean the Doctor?" Donna asked suddenly from his left. "He was the one in the ship?"

"Yes…" Martha began slowly, looking at her for a moment before glancing at Jack. "Sorry, who are you?" she directed at Donna.

"Donna, I'm a friend," Donna said. "I've been looking for him."

"Haven't we all," Jack said nonchalantly, waving a hand. "How bad is he, Martha?"

Martha glanced up and down the corridor. Jack followed her attentions. There were footsteps coming. "In here," she said quickly, taking his arm and pulling him into the side room, closing the door and shutting the blinds behind them.

"He's extremely badly injured," she whispered, still nervously looking around. "Life threatening. He's going to be in surgery for a good few hours yet."

"What's wrong with him?" Jack asked.

Martha suddenly looked so sad. "Broken skull, brain contusions and lesions, broken elbow, severed artery, broken neck, dislocated and broken ankle - you name it."

The room fell incredibly silent. For the first time in a while, Jack's body temperature seemed to drop a few degrees. "No way," he muttered.

"That's what I've been told," Martha replied softly, glancing at the window every now and then. "I don't know how serious the nature of his injuries are for him but either way he's very, very lucky."

"Lucky?" Donna repeated. She sounded almost disgusted to Jack's ears.

"The ship he was in reached nearly 200 miles per hour before it hit the ground, with all of the safety systems turned off," Martha answered quietly.

"He should be dead," Jack realised.

"But he's not, so we're focusing on that," Martha insisted. "Gallifreyan physiology can withstand a harsher impact than us humans, but I'm not sure to what extent. I don't know how much protection his brain has or how well his bones mend, but I do know he heals quickly and and 'he's pretty stubborn when it comes to dying."

Jack couldn't even manage the will to smile at that as he looked at Donna. She was quite pale.

"Why would he do something like that though?" Donna suddenly asked seriously. "It's suicide."

"He must have been forced," Jack reasoned.

"There were no signs of restraints in the wreck," Martha muttered. "I just keep thinking…"

"No," Jack interrupted, cutting her off. "He's not like that. There's a decent explanation for it, and when he wakes up he can tell us."

Martha nodded, almost imperceptibly, before changing the subject. "You need to leave, the army and Cobra are involved. They'll arrest you on sight."

"Believe me when I say I don't care."

"Jack!" Martha persisted, clearly agitated with him. "Leave! I can't save you if you two get arrested. I'll keep you updated, I promise."

Jack stifled a sigh. He didn't want to leave, but equally he didn't want to complicate Martha's already fragile situation. "... Okay," he eventually said.

"We're leaving?" Donna asked.

"Can't do much else."

"But we can't leave," Donna insisted. "He needs us! These bloody doctors are gonna end up killing him!"

"I'm going into surgery right after you two leave so I can monitor what they're doing. Then, when Unit have control, I'll correct any mistakes made," Martha said positively. "But until then you two need to keep out of the way."

"We're going," Jack said. "Call me or I'll be back."

Martha nodded, and, checking the corridor, she split up from them to go in the direction of the operating theatre.

* * *

><p>When Martha got into the operating theatre she almost exploded with rage.<p>

There he was, definitely the Doctor, lying there in some kind of plastic dome covered in blood in the centre of a hive of surgeons in full quarantine suits. From where she was standing she could see the restraints keeping him bound.

_Just in case he jumps up and spits his alien bile everywhere!_

She couldn't stop herself doing what she did next.

"Oi!" she shouted, stepping boldly forward. Everyone in the room immediately looked up at her.

"Stay out, this is a quarantined area!" one of the surgeons bellowed as two men in quarantine suits grabbed her by the arms to drag her back out of the door.

"I am Doctor Martha Jones, I represent Unit and I'm an expert in this alien's anatomy and you need my help!" she shouted struggling to get free.

They didn't seem to hear her, either that or they didn't care. She was dragged outside, struggling every step of the way.

"Quarantine her, she's been exposed to the alien!" were the orders, and she was immediately taken down the corridor.

As she was bundled into a room with two paramedics, a handful of policeman and two soldiers, she slumped down to the floor with her head in her hands.

_That didn't go very well._

* * *

><p>Jack and Donna made it out of the hospital safely, affecting the appropriate stance of grieving parents as they walked past the policeman from earlier until they were clear of the danger zone.<p>

"Right, I'll see you around," Jack suddenly announced, messing with some sort of device on his wrist.

Donna's jaw dropped. "What? Is that it?"

"Yep," Jack responded. "Go home. He's not gonna be out of surgery and settled with Unit taking primary care until tomorrow at this rate, so there's not much point in hanging around."

"So we're just leaving him."

"Yeah."

"But we can't!"

"If you've got clearance to enter a highly guarded area through sixteen walls of the military and special ops then be my guest," Jack invited. "But once Unit take control we'll have no problem getting in. Until then, we wait."

There was a sudden beep of a car horn quite close to Donna, making her jump and spin around in alarm. She quickly realised that no, she wasn't about to get run over as it had been across the street, and she turned back to Jack to argue some more.

But he was gone.

* * *

><p>By a form of sheer luck, Donna found the car again and eventually managed to get back to the house near tea time. The moment she walked in the door her mum was berating her actions, as per usual.<p>

"... And I couldn't go and get the shopping, I had to get a lift from Greg next door and you know his arthritis is getting worse…"

Donna wasn't even listening, her head in a whirl. Only a few miles away was the man she'd been looking for, lying in a hospital under the knife of some humans who probably had no idea how to even comprehend his alien body. She wasn't much of a worrier by nature, but this time she almost felt sick.

"... Plus with all these everyone was panic buying, and do you _know _how hard it is to get toilet roll when people panic buy!? And I'll tell you something else, you..."

Donna still didn't look at her, watching the television over the sofa. The reporter was standing outside the Royal Hope with the newsreel scrolling by.

**MAN FOUND SEVERELY INJURED IN THE WRECKAGE, DOCTORS WORKING THROUGH THE NIGHT**

"... And now we've got these terrorists dropping bombs all over the place it's just not safe anymore! You, Donna, have _stepped over the line, _goodness knows where you've been all day, probably out loitering, anything to avoid a job…"

Donna wished for a brief second that she could actually turn around and tell her mum exactly where she'd been all day. That the man they'd found in the wreckage was an alien, and she, Donna, had been into the Royal Hope to try and find him. She'd met a strange man who could disappear in the blink of an eye, and conned her way around policeman and soldiers alike with a mere wave of a health and safety badge.

But she couldn't. So she kept silent.

"And when you go off like this I get _worried! _You're still my little girl and…"

"Oi, quiet!" her granddad suddenly said from the sofa. "I'm trying to watch this!"

"Don't you get involved, dad!" her mum shot back.

"Shut up and listen!" he insisted.

_"A spokesperson has denied any knowledge of the UFO's origin, which has lead others to believe it is of an extraterrestrial nature. Jon Knowles, BBC News."_

"... Aliens?" her mum suddenly repeated, scoffing. "They'll come up with anything these days, won't they!"

Donna got up, abandoning her tea. "I'm going to bed," she announced.

"But it's 7 o'clock!" her mum pointed out.

"Yeah, well I've got to get up at eleven," Donna responded in a deadpan voice, and quickly left.

* * *

><p>Martha had been talking with the other occupants of the quarantine room, each of them with a unique story. No one had impressed her more than the paramedic, Emma, who by now Martha was convinced was the only rational person for miles.<p>

"So he was awake with you, then?" Martha asked the woman.

She nodded. "Just for a bit. God, it broke my heart."

"How so?"

"We'd just… we'd just left him there, bleeding. We were so scared. But I just saw him bleeding there and it was wrong. And he opened his eyes. The way he looked at me… God, he was in so much pain."

"It's okay," Martha assured her. "He'll be okay. There are people who know what they're doing."

"God, I hope so," Emma muttered.

"Did he say anything?"

"I don't think he could. Can he speak English?"

"Yes," Martha confirmed.

"So you know him?"

Martha considered her for a moment. She couldn't tell Emma the exact nature of her relationship with the Doctor, no matter how much she wanted to. "He's on our books," she ended up saying.

"I just want to go home," the man sitting next to Emma moaned, and everyone in the room nodded and hummed in agreement.

"This is just red tape gone mad," Martha assured them. "You'll be released very soon."

The door suddenly opened, startling Martha slightly. She looked up, and saw Captain Magambo.

"Doctor Jones," she greeted, and beckoned a finger.

* * *

><p>Captain Erisa Magambo took Dr Jones out of the room and into a side room, closing the door behind her. This wasn't going to be pleasant by any means. She'd disciplined soldiers many times before, but Martha was different - especially when it was related to the Doctor. Erisa knew a sensitive area when she saw one.<p>

She took a deep breath, and began. "Jones, what you did was irresponsible."

"I know," Dr Jones replied solemnly. "I apologise."

"Don't worry about apologising," Erisa told her honestly. "But it nearly blew our whole operation."

"Yes, ma'am," Dr Jones replied, nodding sharply.

"I know you have an emotional connection to the Doctor and I understand that, but if you let your emotions compromise your duty then you will have to be taken off of the operation. And with your knowledge of his species you are his best chance of survival. I don't want to have to remove you."

"I understand."

"No more mishaps, Dr Jones," Erisa said sincerely. "We are nearly in control of the situation. We are stepping back until the surgeons have completed their work on him and then we will clear up their mess. Until then you keep your head down and observe only."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now get in the Operating Theatre. We'll need to know what we're clearing up," she finished, and gestured to the door. Dr Jones left hurriedly, saluting on the way.

Erisa sighed. Any situation involving the Doctor always seemed to turn into a complete palaver, regardless of whether he was conscious or not.


	4. A Tax Rebate and a Stupid Hat

**A/N: **Happy birthday to me... :o

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4 - A Tax Rebate and a Stupid Hat<span>

Donna was just polishing off her morning coffee at 8am when the doorbell rang. Her mum went to answer it as she moved to the kitchen to rinse out her cup, wondering when she should go back to the Royal Hope today.

"Donna! It's for you!" came a shout.

Donna frowned. She didn't ordinarily get random house calls these days. All the same, she left out into the hall and immediately saw Captain Jack leant on the doorframe, smiling flirtatiously at her mum.

"Jack!" she realised, gaping.

Jack grinned at her, before turning his attention back to her mum. "... And like I was saying, you know the trouble with having five cars, you've gotta keep 'em all washed. Luckily I've got Hanson for that, he's such a hard worker. I cook him Sunday lunch. I love his company, cos I'm alone the rest of the week. It's tough being on your own, especially when you've got my job."

"What's your job?" her mum asked, her eyes wide.

"I'm a lawyer," Jack told her, shooting a quick wink at Donna. "It's hard work but it's plenty of money if you've got the drive."

"Where do you live?"

"Oh, Kensington."

"Mum?" Donna interrupted, stepping forward.

Her mum finally managed to tear her eyes off of the man to her daughter, her jaw dropped. "Donna! You've never introduced me to Jack before!"

Jack cut straight in before Donna could even begin to conceive of an answer. "Sorry Sylvia, that's my fault. I've been wanting to take it slow and steady with Donna. She's very special and I don't wanna put too much stress on our relationship."

Donna stared at him. She could feel her ears turning red. Thankfully her mum didn't seem to notice, too enthralled by the man in the doorway.

"Well, that's very sensible," her mum said. "Where are you headed off to today?"

"I thought we'd take a spin out in the Mercedes and then head to the Dorchester for lunch," Jack said. "How does that sound, honey?"

It took Donna a moment to register he was talking to her. "Oh! Um, yeah, great!"

He smiled his 100-watt smile. "Okay, thanks Sylvia."

"You're very welcome!" Sylvia said as Jack grabbed Donna's hand and pulled her out of the door. They maintained a casual conversation until they were out of earshot.

"So what, we dating now?" Donna supposed, laughing as they turned the corner.

"I figured you needed a cover story," Jack replied casually, letting go of her hand. "Top lawyer, super rich and lives in Kensington. It was the first thing that came to mind."

Donna could admit she felt a little heartbroken that the fantasy world wasn't real, but accepted it quite quickly. "God, yeah, I'm gonna get her all over me like a rash tonight. Anyway. What is your job? You never told me. And how did you know where I lived?"

"It's complicated," Jack replied, waving a hand.

"Then explain it _really slow."_

"You wouldn't believe it."

Donna snorted with laughter. "Believe it!" she scoffed. "I was nearly eaten by a giant spider on my wedding day. So what are you? Government? Secret Space Agent?"

He smiled at that. "I'm just someone who's trying to get by."

"Oi. I don't do cryptic clues."

He sighed. "No getting around you, is there?"

"Nope," Donna confirmed. "Come on. You said Torchwood, yesterday, like you're all high and mighty. What's Torchwood?"

"Okay. I work for an agency called Torchwood," he began. "It's based under the Roald Dahl Plass in Cardiff, which is the centre of a rift in space-time. There's a little group of us that make it our life's work to hunt down aliens and send them back where they belong, or kill them if they're a threat to Planet 're outside the government and beyond the police."

Donna didn't say anything for a moment, chewing that over, before eventually answering, "... you're right, it's nuts."

"Told you so."

_"But," _she continued loudly, "I believe you. I'll believe anything, me."

Jack just grinned.

"How d'you know the Doctor?" Donna wondered.

"We met during World War Two, I was a conman from the 51st century. I tried to con him and Rose into buying a ship that would be destroyed before they got to see it. Then there was a big hoo-haa with gas mask zombies, they showed me the error of my ways, and consider me converted. Went with them and never looked back. What about you?"

"He abducted me during my wedding."

"Abducted you?" Jack echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"It was something to do with these particle things that glowed that made me like a pencil in a mug…"

"Pencil in a mug..." Jack repeated slowly.

"Well, that's what he said. I dunno. Ask him. Anyway, turns out there was this big spider that had these babies and then to stop it we ending up draining the Thames."

"You were there for that?" Jack asked. "I remember that."

"Yeah," she affirmed. "Anyway, so he asks me to come with him and I… well… well, let's just say I wish _I_ went with him and never looked back. Now I'm unemployed living with mum and grand dad."

Jack nodded solemnly. "Better life," he supposed.

She nodded. "God, how could I have turned that down?" she moaned. "I just wanna travel with him now. I've been trying to find him. Conspiracy theories, crop circles, even the bees. Cos I thought, look for trouble and he'd just turn up."

"You got that right," Jack said.

Suddenly it fell so very silent.

"He'll be okay," Jack suddenly said in the silence.

_I hope so._

"Yeah," was all Donna muttered.

* * *

><p>Since her outburst, Martha had remained quiet and obedient.<p>

She'd worn the quarantine suit and hated every second of it. Even when the surgery was over and the Doctor was escorted to post-op, she still had to keep it on, and he was still unconscious and shrouded in plastic. So she had walked begrudgingly beside the other suited doctors all the way to post-op, and watched some more as they continued to examine the fascinating alien body and talk about the Doctor as though he were an object brought to show and tell.

_"Our alien is doing well…"_

_"I still think it's contagious..."_

_"I think we should keep its scans and catalogue them for future use…"_

_"Will we be keeping it on Earth?"_

Every sentence they uttered made her more and more angry.

He was no longer the one she pined after, but she still cared about him deeply. To see him regarded as a thing to be 'kept' and 'catalogued' was sending her blood pressure into overdrive. But she had kept schtum. Even through all of the rubbish that came out of their mouths. She couldn't risk losing her place on the UNIT operation.

It was 9am before Colonel Mace arrived to inform UNIT that they now had partial control over the Doctor's care. Captain Magambo had escorted her to the intensive care ward to a private room, which was lined with soldiers.

"You are allowed to communicate with him and examine him, but they won't let us near his notes," Magambo explained.

"But I need to see them," Martha said, trying iron out any frustration in her tone.

"It's being worked on," Magambo told her. "Just do what you can, Dr Jones. You've got one hour."

Martha just nodded, and stepped into the room.

He was lying unconscious on the bed, various tubes poking out of him with a heart rate monitor beeping periodically beside him which signified his two hearts were working. His arm and leg were in plaster, his face and eyes were bruised and it was apparent that the UNIT man forgot to mention he'd also broken a few fingers along the way, but they had been plastered too. He was also intubated - why was he intubated? The UNIT man hadn't mentioned anything like that either.

_He looks so helpless._

She was scared at the thought. The Doctor was hardly ever helpless, and if he was, he usually had some sort of plan up his sleeve. Not this time. Not even any sleeves to put any plans up. He just lay there with no shirt on, his chest rising and falling steadily. She'd never seen him without his armour before. He just looked like a regular fragile human who'd been caught in a terrible car accident - a sight she'd seen many times before.

He had always seemed like an immortal force that would be around forever. Sure, he'd had his down moments, but he'd always just jumped right back up and carried on. Not this time. The humans he adored so much; had sacrificed so much to save; the race that totally relied on him to save their lives - he was now reliant on them.

And as Martha regarded the plastic sheets draped around him and her compulsory quarantine suit, she wasn't so sure they were up to the job.

She examined him anyway, passing through the plastic sheet. As she worked she began to figure out what the surgeons had done to him, making notes to address later. She was trying to be as clinical as she could, seeing him as a regular patient rather than a good friend, but the errors were apparent to her. Incorrect procedures on the internal bleeding, no clavicle collar to support his broken neck, not to mention they hadn't seemed to have even addressed his head injury.

Each little twitch his body gave when she was examining him made her think he was waking up, even though she was pretty sure he wouldn't.

Soon she completed her notes, and took her last few minutes to sit next to the bed, holding his hand carefully to avoid the fingers that had been fractured. She was trying to ignore the fact they had deemed it necessary to handcuff him to the bed.

_Like he's going anywhere._

"I'm going to sort this out," Martha told him gently. "Don't worry. I'll look after you, even if the human race won't."

* * *

><p>Jack and Donna had been apprehended at the gate as they had expected, but it quickly became apparent that the sick daughter routine wasn't going to work this time. A dangerous combination of Donna's mouth and Jack's pistol during a body search had ensured a very quick trip straight to a small room guarded by armed soldiers to wait to be officially arrested.<p>

It had been nearly an hour of waiting so far. It seemed the forces were so in disarray they couldn't even seem to arrest people anymore.

"I don't believe this," Donna moaned, struggling in her handcuffs as Jack just sat there, his eyes on the clock ticking on the wall in front of them. 11:30am. Wouldn't be long. "I've been bloody handcuffed!"

"You've never been handcuffed before?" Jack asked idly.

"Um, funnily enough, no," Donna responded haughtily.

"It's a new experience," Jack countered, still watching the clock tick away.

"Oh yeah, cos this is an experience I've always wanted to have," Donna responded sarcastically, still struggling.

"You can put it on your CV," Jack suggested casually.

"Oh yeah, it'll go right between, 'team-player' and 'willing to learn'," she said, rolling her eyes.

Jack smiled at that. The Doctor had really met one here. "Don't worry, we're never actually going to be officially arrested."

"What?"

"Martha'll be here in a minute."

"How d'you know?"

"Educated guess," Jack responded.

"So she might not be."

"Nope."

"What kinda reassurance is that!?"

Jack rolled his eyes, just as the door opened to reveal a tall, middle-aged man in a military uniform accompanied by two soldiers wearing red berets, one putting a plastic bag full of their belongings on the floor.

"Let us out right now!" Donna demanded immediately. "You can't hold us like this! I know my rights!"

"Donna Noble, isn't it?" the important-looking man asked, seemingly completely unphased by her outburst.

Jack watched with mild amusement as the question seemed to stun Donna right between the eyes. "Um, yeah?" she responded, confused.

"And Captain Jack Harkness," the man continued, looking at Jack.

"Confirmed," Jack affirmed.

"Martha tells me you are associated with the Doctor?"

"Yes," Jack answered. "We're both companions."

"I am Colonel Mace of Unit. I think you might be useful to us, so we are going to release you, under one condition."

"Name it."

"You will both sign contracts to become special Unit operatives for the Doctor's case."

For once Donna was staying silent, so Jack decided to take control. "And if we don't?"

"It's in your best interests to sign the contract. If you're not under Unit employment the army will arrest you under charges of a national security risk. As companions to the Doctor you are both far more use to us here than in Guantanamo Bay, which is where you will be sent. To get you out of reach of them you must sign into a contract with us, making your discipline our responsibility."

"Guantanamo Bay?" Jack heard Donna squeak.

"What's the catch?" Jack asked.

"You're under our employment until such time the Doctor's case is resolved."

"We'll sign," Jack said, glancing at Donna.

"Um, this might be a dumb question, but we do get paid, right?" Donna asked seriously. "It's just I've got an appointment at the Job Centre tomorrow and I've missed the last two so…"

"We'll sign," Jack repeated, firmer this time.

"Excellent," Colonel Mace said, and immediately left. Their handcuffs were unlocked, and they were presented with their contracts and a pen before being left alone.

Jack regarded the contract, scanning through the responsibilities and duties. All the usual twaddle of obeying all superior UNIT commander orders without question and the Official Secrets Act.

"I'm serious," Donna was saying. "Do we get paid?"

Jack sighed. "How much do you need?" he asked, moving to the plastic bag to retrieve his phone.

"Pardon?"

"Five thousand? Ten?"

"... Pardon?"

"Give me a figure."

"... Are you giving me money?" Donna asked dumbly.

"Yes. How much do you want?"

Her jaw was agape. "You aren't seriously giving me money. How much have you _got?"_

"Enough."

"Is this Torchwood?"

Jack sighed. "I've never seen anyone avoid money so much. I'm giving you ten thousand," he said, speedialling the Hub.

"But you can't!" Donna squeaked.

_"Jack?" _Tosh answered.

"Hey Tosh, can you transfer ten thousand to the account of Donna Noble in Chiswick, please?"

_"No problem," _she answered. _"I'll do it now. How's it going?"_

"It's definitely him," Jack replied. "We've just managed to jump on the Unit bandwagon."

_"Be careful. The news is all over this."_

"I will, thanks, Tosh."

_"Bye, Jack."_

He hung up, and turned back to the still stunned Donna. "Money's in the bank."

It took her a while to find any words to string together a sentence. "... Isn't it gonna be weird I suddenly got ten thousand pounds?"

"We'll put it through as a tax rebate."

"A ten thousand pound tax rebate?"

"Who questions rebates?" Jack pointed out.

"Fair enough," Donna said, turning to her contract. "God, today's weird. Where d'you get funding anyway?"

"Oh, we take all our finance from Richard Branson. He doesn't mind."

Donna stared at him. Jack just grinned and signed his contract with a flourish. He handed the pen to Donna, who also promptly signed on the dotted line.

"Members of Unit now," Donna supposed. "Hope I don't have to wear that stupid hat."

* * *

><p>"The Time Lord is not dead, my liege."<p>

The Kryx Leader, Sha-kla, looked at his subordinate, absolutely incredulous. "The Time Lord is not dead?"

"No, my liege..."

Chief Sha-kla drew his breath in a hiss. This action alone made his subordinate flinch quite badly. He enjoyed that reaction. "You assured me he was terminated, Klax-lox."

Klax-lox's voice seemingly seemed to wobble in fear more and more with each progressive word he spoke. "He survived the crash and the humans aided him."

The Chief drew in breath again. "If he crashed then he must be damaged, and therefore compromised."

"He's in a medical facility, my liege. Sol 3 has its own internal news system, and he is said to be in a serious condition. He's no threat."

"Are you ordering me, Klax-lox?" Chief Sha-kla asked incredulously.

"N-no, my liege," his subordinate stumbled out. "I was… I was advising."

The Chief inwardly laughed at that - a cold, emotionless laugh. He enjoyed the fear the most. "The Time Lord should not be underestimated. Even when powerless a Time Lord is best dead. He must be terminated before Sol 3 is ravaged. Take a party to Sol 3 and eliminate him, Klax-lox."

"Yes, my liege," Klax-lox replied, bowing before turning to leave.

"Oh, and Krax-lox?"

Krax-lox quickly turned back. "Yes, my liege?"

"Do not waste time, just shoot him through the head. We do not want him to regenerate. And remember to take the bounty body piece."

"Yes, my liege," Krax-lox replied, bowing again before leaving the room.

Chief Sha-kla's thin reptilian mouth turned upwards slightly at the corners in the vague approximation of a smile. With Sol 3 ravaged, the human race sold into slavery and then the bounty for the Time Lord, the Kryx species were about to become very, very rich, and he was about to become very, very feared.

All he needed to do was to kill a helpless Time Lord, whose only defence was a primitive, predictable race.


	5. Donna's Cunning Plan

**A/N: **I'll review reply next chapter, cos it's beginning to become my favourite one...

Really massive thank you to everyone, I know I say this all the time but I really do mean it. I seldom get so much attention and it's genuinely making me go faster, lol! :D You're all the best.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 5 - Donna's Cunning Plan<span>

The Doctor woke up.

Well, he assumed he'd woken up. His head was absolutely pounding to such a degree he was afraid of opening his eyes. He did manage to, eventually, but the world was fairly out of focus and keeping them open was difficult. As such, he had absolutely no idea where he was.

He listened for a moment, picking up the sound of steady beeping beside him, and he could feel something that felt a lot like an intubation tube down his throat. He tried to pull it out but quickly realised it was somehow stopped in some kind of bind. He made to raise his head to look down, but quickly regretted it as sharp pain shot right through his neck. That seemed to cue all the other pains in his body coming from various places in varying states of agony. His arm, his foot, his hand… He was hurt.

His head was still thumping and quite addled, but eventually he managed to work it out. He was in some sort of medical facility.

But it wasn't the fact he was seemingly quite badly injured, or the fact he'd been intubated, or that his vision was quite bad that really made him worry. It was the fact that he had _no _idea how he'd got there.

He heard the door open, and he quickly moaned to indicate he was awake. The person moved over to him, and quickly the Doctor discovered why the world had been so unbelievably blurry. There was some strange plastic sheet around his bed. Admittedly his vision still wasn't 100 percent perfect, but he still felt somewhat relieved. At least until the person stepped directly into his vision and he saw they were wearing a large white-coloured quarantine suit.

_Well, that's confusing._

He could see it was a woman through the clear window in the head of the suit. She was gazing at him in alarm.

He tried to speak, but the tube down his throat made it somewhat difficult and he ended up choking on it. The woman said something he didn't quite catch, turned and ran off. Seconds later she returned with another person in a quarantine suit, a man with greying hair and a wild look in his eyes.

He said something, but again the Doctor didn't quite catch it. The man moved forward, and carefully removed the intubation. The Doctor coughed a little, but eventually normal function was restored and he managed to croak out some words.

"How did I get here?" he asked. He knew his words were slurring but he hoped they were getting the gist. "What happened to me?"

The man said something quietly to the woman, and they both left the room again. This was starting to become very annoying. "Hey...!"

After a few seconds the man and woman returned, this time with three other men and another woman. They all stared at him, seemingly waiting.

"What happened to me?" he tried again, but the words were slurring even more.

The group of people conversed together again, but made no move to address or assist him, just taking notes down on their clipboards. He rapidly decided that it was too much effort for the moment, and passed out again.

* * *

><p>"So he was awake and talking?" Martha asked the hospital doctor, managing to keep her tone of voice level. She was actually feeling exceptionally pleased with herself at the simple fact she hadn't punched him in the face yet.<p>

"Well it wasn't really talking," the hospital doctor drawled, shrugging as if it was of little importance. "Its words were rather indecipherable."

Yeah, indecipherable because he had an untreated subdural haematoma.

"Did you try to speak to him?"

"Of course," the hospital doctor said indignantly. "I don't think it could understand."

Not to mention the fact that the doctors would _not _stop referring to him as an it.

"Was he coherent at least?"

"We're not sure."

_How can you not be sure!_

"May I be allowed to see him?" she asked quietly, as she feared if she raised her voice anymore she'd end up spitting in his face.

"No, it is in post-op scans, then we will start to thoroughly cataloguing its physiology."

"... But I can help you," was all Martha could think to say without a swear word in the sentence.

The doctor didn't reply. He just turned away and left, leaving her reply hanging redundantly in the air.

"Martha," came a hiss.

She turned in the direction of the sound, but she already knew who it was. Jack.

She sighed and followed the man into a side room, closing the door and blinds as before.

"Jack, I told you to leave!" she snapped irritably. "Even if you're working for Unit!"

"Not a chance," he replied, Donna nodding furiously beside him. "He woke up?"

"Briefly," Martha muttered.

"But that's good?"

"They didn't try and communicate properly with him. From what they told me they just observed him. Apparently he wasn't talking very well; slurring words. I suspect that's the haematoma but they haven't even treated it. I think they're too scared to touch his brain in case it explodes alien goo over then or something," she said with a hint of malice.

"Haven't Unit taken control yet?" Jack asked seriously.

"No. The politics of it is near insanity," Martha explained. "Because the army got there first they're claiming ownership over the alien lifeform."

"Ownership?" Donna echoed. "No one owns him."

"I agree, but that's not the way they see it," Martha said.

"What d'you mean?"

"The UK are now the proud owners of an alien lifeform," Jack explained. "In international relation terms that's like having a Scotland-sized gold mine."

"We just have to hope the public won't find out," Martha muttered.

"What happens if the public find out?" Donna asked, but already knew the answer.

"There's three standard biological rules hard wired into humans, Donna," Jack began. "On encountering something unknown, if it looks tasty, eat it. If it's pretty, have sex with it. If it's scary, kill it."

Martha nodded, agreeing. "They'll kill him."

"Or have sex with him, he is quite pretty," Jack added.

Martha rolled her eyes. "Either way we need to get him out of the middle of London and somewhere the human race can't do something about it, even if they _do_ find out."

Jack nodded. "As soon as Unit have control we'll get him out."

Martha sighed, her heart sinking. "I don't think it's that simple."

"What?" Donna asked.

"He's in intensive care on intubation. They're scared of him and aren't giving him the care he needs. He's very, very sick, and if they don't start properly taking care of him he's going to get worse. Then he'll be too sick to move. They won't let me look at his notes so I can't anticipate it. I don't know his exact condition. I don't even know why he's intubated."

Donna didn't look happy at that. "We need to take control," she said.

"There's nothing we can do," Martha said, fully aware that with each time she repeated it the words had less and less conviction. "This has to be done officially."

"Does it?" Jack suddenly asked.

Martha shot him a look.

"I've got a xenobiologist back in Cardiff…" he continued vaguely.

Martha rolled her eyes again. "We're not stealing him."

"Spoil sport."

"But if they're not taking care of him properly we can't just sit by and watch it happen," Donna said strongly.

"We have to," Martha found herself muttering. "If we start anything it'll only put him in danger. If we steal him we'd be turning special ops, the army _and _Unit against us. If we're found anywhere near him then Unit won't get control of his care. Why would they hand it all to Unit if they can't even control their staff? We can't do anything. We have to let them do what they want to him and just hope we can clean up the mess."

There was a brief momentary silence. Now she had said it out loud, it really was a grim reality.

_I'm the only one that can help him and they won't let me near him._

The thought was so quiet in her head.

"I'm not taking this," Donna suddenly said, straightening up.

"But the army…" Martha began.

"To hell with the army," Donna said brutally. "I've got an idea."

* * *

><p>The Doctor woke up again.<p>

He didn't really like waking up at the moment. The amount of pain that came with it made it an arduous task that was barely worth it. As he opened his eyes, the familiar view of plastic and tubes returned as the memories flooded in. He was injured. He was in a hospital on Earth. He was no longer intubated, but nothing much else had changed. He still couldn't remember how he'd got there, but he was trying not to let that panic him.

The plastic pulled back and a man entered, wielding an AK-47. He took one look at the Doctor, and quickly ran off again.

He was just considering passing out again as he remembered people just staring at him last time, when suddenly a familiar face appeared through the plastic without a quarantine suit. For moment he struggled to connect the face to a name.

_D… M… Mo… Ma… Mar… Martha._

Wait. There was something important he had to tell her.

He tried to say her name, but again his mouth couldn't quite seem to form any distinguishable syllables. Something had happened to his head - the reason why it hurt so much. If his brain wasn't so addled he could probably begin to work out what it was. But he couldn't. He couldn't seem to reign in any definite thoughts about it.

She said something back which he didn't quite catch. She lifted a hand to his face, cupping his cheek gently. She said something else, and then got out her stethoscope to examine him.

He really needed to tell her something. It was extremely important.

He just had no idea what it was.

* * *

><p>Jack Harkness was pushing a gurney down the corridor on which Donna was laid with some fake IVs and bandages, cued to move by the guard running out of the Doctor's room. The guard had ran up the stretch of corridor to where the doctors were gathered in a side room and ducked his head in to shout the alien had woken up. Almost immediately the doctors were out of the door, just as Jack turned onto the corridor and promptly pushed it into a strategically placed spare gurney to the side. Donna launched herself off of the gurney as Jack purposely twisted it over, sending her crashing to the floor in a tide of medical equipment.<p>

Donna screamed in agony, spreading her entire body across the gap to prevent the doctors from running by her, as Jack leant over the gurney to prevent them from vaulting over.

"Oh ma'am, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

"You stupid man!" Donna yelled, holding her heavily bandaged arm. "I'll sue for this!"

The crowd of doctors immediately stopped, considered the situation, and rapidly decided going the other way was probably quicker, as Donna had anticipated. She did a little inside cheer as they ran back up the corridor and turned the corner to go around the longer way.

Jack chucked Donna a stopwatch as she got up quickly from the floor. She managed to catch it with another little inner cheer, as Jack ran back up the corridor to slip into the room the doctors had been occupying. Donna turned back on herself and ran to outside the Intensive Care Unit where the Doctor's room was, checking between the stopwatch and the corridor where she knew the doctors would run down in precisely forty-eight seconds.

* * *

><p>It was deserted, just as they had anticipated. It didn't take Jack long to find what he needed - the sheets of paper comprising the Doctor's medical notes were all spread out across the coffee table, heavily annotated. He quickly pulled out his phone, and began to take pictures of each sheet, one by one.<p>

* * *

><p>Martha was busy shining a light into the Doctor's eyes and taking notes on their dilation, before checking him over as quickly as she could. He remained still and obedient for her rushed examination, seemingly understanding that this was by no means a visit that was in any way allowed and that she was in a rush to get what she needed and get out.<p>

She quickly finished her brief examination, and took his hand. He was just gazing at her now.

"The cavalry's here, okay? Just keep fighting. We're working on getting you out, just bear with us."

She knew full well that he probably couldn't understand a word she was saying, but by the recognition in his eyes, his look of desperation and efforts to talk earlier she was sure that her presence and the sound of her voice were enough for the moment.

"I don't care I'm suing!" suddenly came Donna's yell - the cue to leave. Martha quickly squeezed his arm affectionately, and ran out of the door to meet Donna. Together they run back to the gurney just in time to meet Jack coming the other way. He nodded, and quickly they all assumed a position as though they had just helped Donna back on.

"Let's just get you back to the ward, ma'am," Martha said loudly.

"This is disgusting, the way I've been treated! I want him fired!" Donna shouted back.

"Now let's not be too hasty, ma'am," Jack said urgently. "I'm very sorry."

"This is why the NHS is going down the drain!" Donna continued as the doctors finally arrived and ran into the ICU without even sparing a glance for the three. "Don't think I won't be writing to the Secretary of State for Health about the way I've been treated! … Who the hell is the Secretary of State for Health now, anyway!?"

"Alan Johnson," Martha muttered under her breath.

"Alan Johnson!" Donna said loudly, as Jack began to push the gurney down the corridor. "There'll be a letter on his desk by Friday! What's your name?"

"Let's try and solve this amicably," Martha stressed before they finally turned the corner, well and truly out of radius.

"Good job," Jack praised, pulling out his phone as Donna quickly got rid of her fake IVs and bandages, pulling off the gown that covered her normal clothes. "Got everything. Got a bonus too." He held up a tube filled with blood in a sealed plastic bag. "Unfortunately for them they just misplaced it."

"Brilliant," Martha breathed, taking the phone and the blood. "Let's get somewhere private."

* * *

><p>They managed to find a downstairs staff room that was unoccupied, using the staff fridge to contain the blood sample. Luckily there was nothing in it. Martha quickly rooted through the notes on Jack's phone, her jaw tensing more and more with every passing second as she read every note and annotation.<p>

"Oh god," she whispered, feeling very cold.

"What?" Jack asked.

"The post-op scans show his brain has swollen and the haematoma's got bigger.

"Oh god," Jack concurred.

"Exactly," Martha agreed. "His brain's swelling inside his skull, the haematomas pressing on it, and he's still got skill fragments inside his head. The left side of his brain is being completely crushed and penetrated by his own fractured skull. If he was human, by letting it carry on they're causing him possibly irreparable brain damage."

"Oh god," Donna finally said.

"They're not being careful with him like they would a human," Martha continued. "I saw signs of collapsed veins in his arm where they've taken blood roughly, he's bruising quite badly. And he's definitely deteriorating, he wasn't very focused today."

"Did he recognise you?" Jack asked.

"I'm pretty sure he did, yes. It did take him a while, though. He's also had no form of painkillers. Plus his neck fracture has got worse because they haven't supported it. At this rate he's going to need neck traction or surgery. They only need to put a collar on him now!"

She couldn't help her voice suddenly raising with anger at the end of her sentence, but she felt it was entirely warranted. They were harming him more than helping him.

_And they didn't seem to care._

* * *

><p>The six doctors stared at him with their clipboards in hand, furiously taking down notes, and the Doctor didn't know why.<p>

He wanted to get up and run to the Tardis, but his body didn't seem to agree with his head. He couldn't even _feel _the right side of his body, let alone actually use it. He was sure he had control of it when he'd woken up before. Or maybe he was confused. He wasn't sure about anything, not anymore.

At least Martha had been here. That meant he was safe, didn't it? He associated her with safety, so he was safe. Wasn't he?

Either way, he really needed to tell her something. Something about…

_I can't remember._

His head _really _hurt.

He closed his eyes, and quickly passed out.


	6. The Human Race Lives Here

Chapter 6 - The Human Race Lives Here

The amount of bullshit Emma had been subjected to in the past few days had been astounding.

After being quarantined, thoroughly physically examined and forced to sign the Official Secrets Act, she had then asked if the alien was okay but had been completely ignored. She had then returned to work, only to find she'd been put on probation pending further investigation. When she'd asked them why, they had barely been able to construct a coherent answer before pushing her out the door.

Left watching Jeremy Kyle slightly too frequently, she had finally relented to her curiosity. The only solace she would be able to find in this whole situation was if she knew that at least the alien man was okay. The Doctor, the woman from Unit had called him, perhaps with slightly too much familiarity.

So she'd turned off Jeremy Kyle and gone back to the hospital. Getting in was easy - a wig and a cheap dress was all she had needed. She knew full well that she wouldn't be allowed near the Doctor, but she had planned for that.

She went straight to her old workplace where the paramedics hung out, only to find Sam there, reading a magazine on science-fiction.

"Good read?" she asked, causing her old colleague to jump about five foot in the air.

"Emma!" he exclaimed in surprise. "They said the alien contaminated you!"

"Seriously?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Funny how he contaminates me but no one else, right? They've suspended me."

"What?" Sam's voice raised about two octaves in pitch. "What for?"

"No idea, they didn't tell me," she replied brashly. "I thought they'd have suspended you too."

"I'm going into the office at 4 o'clock," Sam admitted quietly. "Annual review, they called it. Funny, cos I only had one a couple of months back."

"It's all rubbish, Sam," Emma told him directly. "This is just because we helped the Doctor."

"But he was bleeding to death," Sam insisted.

"Exactly. If it wasn't for us they wouldn't _have _a damn alien and that pisses me off," Emma swore. "Do you know how he is?"

"Nope."

"Right, I'm sneaking in."

"What?"

"I need to know he's okay. I've been watching chav mums with illegitimate children arguing for two days straight and I need to know that I'm doing that for a bloody good reason, all right?"

To her complete surprise, Sam suddenly nodded and jumped onto his feet. "All right," he echoed positively.

"... What?" she asked, stunned.

"I'm with you. Obviously I'm about to get suspended too so I might as well actually do something to deserve it."

Emma smiled. "Team."

"Always," Sam agreed with a return smile.

* * *

><p>They both made their way to the Intensive Care Unit - it was no secret that it was where the alien was. There was a guard in a quarantine suit just outside the door, wielding a rather destructive-looking gun.<p>

"I'll distract him," Sam offered. Emma nodded and ducked out of sight before Sam jogged up to the guard, looking anxious. He and the guard exchanged some words Emma couldn't hear, before the guard suddenly stiffened and nodded furiously, before following Sam in a fast run up the corridor.

Emma dove out of her hiding place and ran straight into the ICU. It didn't take long to find him behind all the plastic.

She couldn't help but think how small he looked, despite being slightly taller than the average man. This alien that everyone seemed to fear, run from and wear quarantine suits around to protect themselves was almost dwarfed by all the machines around him. He had bruising under his eyes, the blood that had covered him before was gone to reveal some rather spectacular bruising, and he looked very, very weak.

As soon as she stepped forward, the alien - the Doctor, she corrected herself - opened his eyes. Only this time, she wasn't afraid.

"Hello," she said quietly, smiling. "Remember me? Emma? Apparently you're called the Doctor, though to be honest you're more kind of needing one right now."

Those dark irises were barely able to focus on her, and there was the exact same look of sheer agony in them as before. After a brief moment he seemed to recognise her, and said something that she couldn't understand. Even his voice was weak.

Emma frowned, and moved to the IVs. She went through all the labels, and to her horror found that none of them were analgesics. Any pain he was in was very much present.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," Emma muttered, resting her hand in his. His wrist was fixed to the side rail with handcuffs, two of them intertwined in each other with a padlock. They _really _didn't want him going anywhere. Not that he could in this state. He was still trying to talk, but the words made no sense.

"C'mon," she said gently. "Save your strength."

* * *

><p>As soon as the Doctor had seen the paramedic from before, it had all hit him like a baseball bat. He knew what had happened. The Kryx had done this to him - forced him in the escape pod to crash - and now they were about to destroy Earth. This little spurt of adrenaline cleared his foggy head and nulled the pain a little bit, and now he was desperately trying to tell her.<p>

"The Kryx are going to destroy Earth, they're formidable, you need to tell Martha to get to the Shadow Proclamation and…"

But it was very clear that she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. His voice wasn't exactly coming out very strongly… or with any proper words. He tried again several times, and several more times he failed. She kept saying words softly to him, caringly holding his hand, and he kept trying despite knowing that there was absolutely no way she would understand him.

"Please understand me," he moaned. The bit of adrenaline had stopped, and his head was beginning to fog again. Her dulcet tone of voice was almost sending him to sleep, but he forced himself to stay awake - at least for another five seconds until finally unconsciousness spread its now familiar darkness over his eyes for a brief moment. He quickly snapped them open again, only to find Emma had gone, and someone else was standing there…

A Kryx.

* * *

><p>Krax-lox allowed himself a smile. Here was the Time Lord, feared by so many, lying utterly helpless in front of him. Now he was conscious, Krax-lox was going to enjoy this even more.<p>

The Time Lord tried to cry out, but Krax-lox quickly clamped his claws around the Time Lord's neck. He then drew out a needle gun - his insurance - and swiftly injected poison straight into the Time Lord's arm.

The Time Lord flinched and tried to cry out again, but Krax-Lox tightened his claws to such a degree he drew blood. Then he put the needle gun away and instead drew out a real gun, pointing it at the time Lord's head.

Suddenly there was a shout from behind him, and he quickly turned to find a human standing in the doorway. In a panic he let go of the Time Lord and turned to the human, swiftly shooting it. It immediately cried out and hit the floor.

Then there was the sound of a commotion of humans from somewhere close. Krax-lox swore, and quickly activated his teleport.

* * *

><p>"No!"<p>

The Doctor had watched as the paramedic woman hit the floor, writhing in pain. The Kryx had teleported out and suddenly he was left alone with the woman, who was still crying out desperately.

He had to get up.

He forced himself to sit up, agony ripping right through him. He flinched and cried out, but forced himself to carry on and let his adrenaline cancel it out. It wasn't until he swung his leg over the side rail that he realised his leg was also plastered from foot to thigh, which made moving it extremely difficult and painful.

But he didn't care. He had to get to the woman.

He eventually managed to get over the side rail, all the pain now making his entire body shake badly. He dragged himself across the cold, hard floor, the handcuffs sliding up the rail until he reached the end of the bed where the woman was. He looked at her face - her eyes were burning with pain, gazing at him in an expression he'd seen a million times before.

Help me.

_I'm trying._

He looked down at the profusely bleeding wound, and quickly realised that without his hands there was only one option available to him. He changed his position as quickly as he could, and placed his heavily plastered leg straight on the wound, crying out as he pushed down to try and stop it from bleeding.

The woman realised what he was doing, and didn't fight him. He continued to push down, his face contorted with pain.

_Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts!_

The phrase repeated in his brain, but there was no way it was happening. He was shaking even more, which caused every single broken bone in his body to judder - his neck feeling like it was going to snap clean in half from the amount of pain it was causing.

The woman suddenly reached up weakly, taking his leg and pressing down on it for him with one hand. With the other she took the hand of his damaged right arm and held onto tightly, but he couldn't even feel it.

Their eyes connected again. He could feel his eyes flooding with tears, as were her's, but the look of pure gratitude in her eyes was unmistakable.

She then said something with such feeling and conviction that he instinctively knew what the word had meant.

Thank you.

He could only nod, slightly, before finally running footsteps arrived. He looked up, instinctively ready to tell them to help her but all he saw was gun pointed straight at his head.

The gun made several rather lovely _pft _sounds as a five tranquilliser darts shot out in quick succession and hit him in the chest and neck.

* * *

><p>Donna stumbled down from her bedroom at 10am, only just about dressed and made up after missing the alarm. After they had instigated the plan last night Martha had then taken the blood sample to a Unit lab to be analysed, after which they'd spent a few hours doing nothing only to be told the blood was impossible to analyse due to its alien construction. They had then all bid good bye at 2am and Donna had only got back home just after 3am.<p>

She found her mum in the kitchen, and internally groaned as she turned, saw her and pulled a very sly smile.

"So what time did you stumble in last night?"

"Late," was all Donna responded, far too tired to make conversation as she reached for the bread to make some toast.

"Out with Jack?" she suggested, maintaining that sly smile.

"Yep."

"I do like Jack," her mum said loudly, turning her head in the general direction of the other resident of the household. "He's a nice young man…!"

"What?" her granddad asked vaguely, clearly paying very little attention to her mum.

"I said Jack is a very nice young man!"

Her granddad laughed. "You mean he's a very rich young man!"

Her mum laughed with him, but Donna could tell it was somehow dampened by the fact it was probably the first thing her mum had been thinking. "Don't be so silly, Dad! It's just nice Donna's finally found someone, she's been single for so long."

Donna decided to abandon the toast and just settled for a piece of bread instead, desperate to get away from her mum. She dropped onto the sofa next to her granddad, pulling a face of exasperation at him as her mum turned away. He chuckled, and looked back at some auction program on TV.

"Oh, he came this morning looking for you, but you were asleep," her mum told her.

Donna tensed. "You didn't wake me up!?"

"He was in a bit of a rush. Said to tell you something came up and he'd meet you at the usual place as soon as you could."

Donna nodded, disguising her frown. Jack would wait if he had the time. Something must have happened.

"Thanks, mum," she said, quickly getting up, pulling on her coat and running out of the door in a flash.

* * *

><p>"That girl's always running around now," Sylvia huffed, dropping onto the sofa beside her dad. "Still, she's got a lovely man."<p>

The auction program suddenly faded away, along with the sound, replaced by a still image of the BBC logo.

"What's…" Sylvia began, but her dad quickly shushed her.

"Whey-hey! Newsflash again!" he enthused.

_"This is BBC1. We have interrupted our programmes for a news report. We now go over to Sophie Raworth in the BBC London studios."_

* * *

><p>Donna had walked half of the way, and managed to get a taxi for the last half. But she had to abandon it when once again the streets were clogged from Westminster Bridge to the Royal Hope Hospital and beyond.<p>

She pushed her way through the crowds without hesitation, the words of the people around her seemingly merging into noise. She stopped just next to a man waving a placard with the writing, '**THE HUMAN RACE LIVES HERE**' written on hastily in black marker pen, chanting along with the crowd.

"Hey, mate, what's going on?" she asked.

"Ain't you heard? They got a fuckin' alien in there!" he shouted back, before quickly resuming chanting. Now she was close, she could distinguish the words coming out of the man's mouth.

"Earth is ours! Earth is ours!" the crowd all chanted together like mindless drones.

Donna didn't know whether to feel sick or angry, so instead she continued to push through the crowd, desperate to get to Jack, Martha and the Doctor.

* * *

><p>When Donna reached the ICU corridor, it was utterly packed out with soldiers and doctors running back and forth in an organised mess. She even saw the Prime Minister, shouting at one of his juniors.<p>

"Who told the media!?" he demanded to know, spittle flying from his lips.

She quickened her power walk to a jog, finally finding Martha and Jack stood outside the ICU, conferring in frantic whispers.

"They know!" she cried as she reached them. "The public know!"

"We've got worse problems than that," Jack grated. "Someone sneaked into his room this morning, and we don't know how but she was shot. They found the Doctor next to her body."

Donna immediately forgot about the rioting humans outside. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, hand over her mouth. "Is he okay?"

"Umm…" Martha began, but Jack interrupted her.

"He's _not _okay!" he shouted angrily. "They hit him with five tranquilliser darts!"

Donna's brow furrowed, looking between them in shock. "But why…"

"They think he shot her, Donna!" Jack shouted, throwing his arms up in the air.

_"Calm down!" _Donna suddenly shouted, almost making the entire corridor fall silent. However, Jack obeyed, and soon the entire corridor was alive again. "Right, Martha," she turned to the woman. "How bad is five tranquilliser darts?"

"I don't know how much he can take but anymore than three of that type would send a human into cardiac arrest," she said, her tone as if she couldn't quite believe what she was saying.

"Okay, so they think he shot her? What'll they do?" was Donna's next question.

"They're deciding whether to shoot him or not," Jack grated.

"But they can't do that with no proof, right? What about CCTV? Can we find that?"

"Nothing on CCTV. And they can do whatever they want. He's an alien. Human rights don't apply to him."

"And her? Who's her?"

"Emma, she's the paramedic who treated him on scene," Martha told her.

"Okay, where is she now?"

"She's been treated, she's unconscious in the Major Trauma Centre."

"Right, any bright plans?" Donna asked quickly.

"We need to check he's okay," Martha said. "If they're not treating him, those tranquilliser darts might be killing him."

"Then that's your job," Donna ordered. "Anyway you can, just get in there, keep watching him."

Martha nodded sharply.

"I'll follow the officials, see what they're gonna do to him," Jack said.

Donna nodded. "I'll go and find Emma. As soon as she wakes up she can clear him."

And with that, all three split up and headed in different directions.

But with every progressive step Donna couldn't help but wonder why they were all just assuming he didn't shoot her.

Did he? Could he?

_He tried to drown babies at Christmas._

She quickly shook off the thoughts, and continued her jog to the Major Trauma Centre.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Yay review reply! Time for me to rant at everyone. Ask me anything, as the saying goes. Though I don't know what I'm having for dinner tonight yet, so don't ask me that. Or maths. I can't cope with maths. I'm learning Japanese at the moment and they're asking me what the answer to 57+78 is in Japanese and I'm like... BUT I DON'T EVEN KNOW THE ANSWER IN ENGLISH :o

Er, anyway, slightly off topic. Onwards!


	7. Who Shot Emma?

Chapter 7 - Who Shot Emma? 

Jack was sitting at a table with the Prime Minister; COBRA operatives; army generals and doctors; UNIT generals; Colonel Mace… And Jack was feeling somewhat insignificant.

He'd only managed to get in on his Torchwood credentials (plus some slight flirting) and was now the only one that was utterly silent in the midst of the organised chaos, as opinions and voices bantered around the table.

"It needs to be killed!" an army general was saying. "It only wants to kill us!"

"There's no proof he shot her," a UNIT man stressed.

"No one else was there, and it was practically attacking her when we entered!" the Army man insisted. "What more proof do you need?"

"There's no conclusive proof or sign of the weapon," Colonel Mace inputted.

"Sign of the weapon?" a COBRA man scoffed. "We're talking about an alien, here!"

"What are you inferring?" one of the UNIT men asked.

"It's an alien, it's perfectly feasible that it would have weapons concealed in its limbs."

Jack raised an eyebrow at the mere thought of the Doctor having a fully functional gun in the genetics of his hand.

"That's a ridiculous conclusion," Mace told him firmly. "This is fantasy."

"It's an alien, Mace," the Prime Minister suddenly interjected. "The normal rules of physics don't apply."

"Even if that's true, which it isn't, we are still missing a murder weapon," a UNIT man said. "We've all seen his scans, there is nothing to suggest a concealed weapon and the room has been searched."

"The Doctor is _known _to Unit, he is one of our staff," Mace continued. "He has assisted us on many occasions."

"Have you ever thoroughly physically examined him?" the Prime Minister wondered.

Mace hesitated. "Well, no, but…"

"Mentally examined him?"

"No, but…"

"At least a moral test?"

"... No, but…"

"I don't understand why we're wasting time debating this," an army doctor said. "It's clear, whatever it is, it's extremely dangerous. There is only one solution for the safeguarding of our planet."

"But it may be part of a species," a COBRA man pointed out. "They will come to find it. We may be causing an intergalactic war."

"Hold on," Jack suddenly found himself saying, standing up with his arms aloft. Immediately the room of very important people fell silent. "I think some of us have been watching a few too many sci-fi films."

"Who are you?" the Prime Minister asked, regarding Jack as if he were a small ant made of snot.

"Captain Jack Harkness, UNIT special operative and Torchwood; head of," Jack announced boldly, waving two IDs in the air simultaneously. "Outside the government, beyond the police, 21st century is when everything changes yadda yadda," he paraphrased, and then continued as he put his IDs back into his pocket. "We've all seen his scans, he's got a mostly recognisable internal system and he's extremely humanoid on the outside, perhaps more than some of us would like. He's not got weapons secreted in his arms."

Jack was lying. He'd never seen the scans. But he didn't have to be a xenobiologist to see the idiocy of the statement.

"The Captain is right," one of the UNIT men said. "If you cannot approach this realistically then at least try and be rational. He's not hiding any weapons."

"You don't know that," a COBRA man stated boldly.

"The Doctor isn't just a Unit associative, he's also considered an ally at Torchwood," Jack deflected. "I personally know him very well as an operative and as a friend. He's not dangerous."

The door suddenly burst open to reveal Martha, standing there, struggling to catch her breath. Jack watched as she completely ignored the gathering and looked straight to Colonel Mace instead.

"Sir," she gasped, panting heavily from running.

"Jones, stand down," Mace said quickly and firmly.

"I'm sorry Colonel, but this has to stop," she insisted, still trying to catch her breath. "He's practically being tortured, he could be dead long before the execution."

"What?" Jack asked quickly, stiffening.

She looked at him. Her eyes were so sad. "They're conducting experiments on him, testing drugs to see his reactions, and vivisection. All of his injuries have been neglected."

"Is this true, Stein?" the Prime Minister asked crisply, looking at the army doctor.

The army doctor, Stein, took a deep breath that hissed through his gritted teeth before answering slowly. "We are conducting tests, yes, but he is being carefully monitored."

"You call a guard on the door who checks when he remembers monitoring!?" Martha snapped. "If he starts failing nobody'll get there in time!"

"And what's your authority?" the Prime Minister asked Martha in the same manner he'd asked Jack.

"I am Martha Jones, Unit doctor and friend to the Doctor," she announced boldly, a steely look in her eyes.

"Me too," Jack concurred. He would've stood up in a maxim of Spartacus were he not already standing. "This is sick."

"It's inhumane!" Martha added, nodding furiously.

"So is the alien," a COBRA man pointed out.

For a moment, Martha looked utterly lost for words at the man's callous response. "... That doesn't even _matter!"_

"This is the human race, is it?" Jack suddenly said, drawing all attention back to him. "This is the great and bountiful homo sapien empire that's about to colonise the universe? This is how we react to another species in need? We kill it? Cos that's all the Doctor is - he's an alien that needs some help from us. You all sit there with your bare power, condemning him to death for something you haven't even proved he did, despite knowing who he is. I know you're pretty new to the job, Mr Prime Minister; maybe you haven't got to the Code Nine file, yet, so let me fill you in. He's the one that gets called when we can't handle it. The amount of times he's saved this planet? I can't even count. We owe him our lives and our planet a thousand times over, he never asks for anything in return, and this is how we repay him? Cut-corner procedures, experimentation and vivisection? You should all be _ashamed _of yourselves."

Jack hadn't really know what was about to come out of mouth when he'd began, but somehow the guiding force of the Doctor had been with him, and he was feeling quite pleased with the end result. So much so, he was expecting a long, awkward pause as they all mused on their faults. So he was quite surprised when he got a response almost immediately.

"It still shot the woman," Stein said, his beady eyes fixed on Martha.

"You don't even know her name, do you?" Martha almost spat.

"... That's irrelevant," Stein responded haughtily.

"There's no proof he shot her. I _know _him. He hates guns and violence. He'd never shoot a defenceless woman."

"I agree," Jack said.

"So we're supposed to agree with you on lacklustre reasons and hear-say?" the Prime Minister wondered.

Jack sighed heavily. "You seem like a clever man. I voted for you. Are you really going to do this? Kill a defenceless alien as he lies there in a coma? An alien who has saved the very people you represent so many times?"

"Be quiet," the Prime Minister snapped. "Neither of you have any authority."

"I've saved the world nearly ten times, Mr Prime Minister," Martha almost growled. "I've got more authority than you do."

"Me too," Jack concurred.

"Be quiet!" the Prime Minister ordered irately.

"Martha," Colonel Mace warned lowly.

"Yessir," Martha grated, glancing at Jack. They'd done what they could to fight for the Doctor's corner, but even as Jack stood there, sure they had won, he was making a plan in his head to get the Doctor out before these idiots got anywhere near him. Humans were somewhat unpredictable when they were scared.

"Prime Minister, if I may," Stein suddenly said, hand raised in the air.

"Yes?" the Prime Minister asked tersely, somewhat riled by Martha's earlier condescence.

"If I may be so bold as to suggest that this alien, is brain damaged. The old alien as they knew it is gone, its personality changed, and this alien is capable of things they wouldn't have before seen in its personality? Such as murder?"

"He wouldn't _have _brain damage if you'd actually bothered to-"

"Jones," Mace warned again.

Martha shut her mouth again, but didn't look happy about it.

"We've discussed this enough," the Prime Minister said. "It still stands to reason that there is no explanation for the woman being shot other than the alien doing it…"

"But…"

"Martha!" Mace snapped. Martha shut up again.

The Prime Minister completely ignored the exchange. "Let's vote. All in favour of execution, say aye."

"Aye," eight people said simultaneously, arms in the air.

"All against, say nay?"

"Nay!" five people replied.

"... Eight for, five against. Therefore I can only conclude that it be executed as soon as possible."

"WHAT!?" Martha shrieked.

Jack quickly bolted over to her, taking her arm. "C'mon Martha, let's just accept defeat."

Martha looked at him in such a way he nearly erupted into flames on the spot. "What are you _doing, _Jack!?"

"We've gotta submit to the decision, democracy in action," Jack insisted, and gave her a wink.

"For god's sake, Jack," she moaned, pulling her arm away. "Okay, I'm going."

They mooched out the door together, their heads held low. As soon as they were out of sight, Jack whipped out his gun and checked it was loaded.

"We're really doing this, aren't we," Martha supposed, clearly slightly nervous.

"Yep," Jack replied shortly, and put his gun back in its holster. "Start running, Dr Jones."

* * *

><p>They arrived at the Doctor's room in a normal manner, flashing IDs to get into the room. There they found a man in a quarantine suit, standing beside the Doctor.<p>

"Sam?" Martha realised, recognising him from her time in quarantine. He was Emma's work partner.

"Yeah…" he answered vaguely, and pointed at the Doctor. "This is how you're treating him?"

"Not us," Martha grated, looking at Jack. He seemed to have frozen, staring at the Doctor. His jaw was tense. She followed his gaze to the sight she'd reacted so badly to ten minutes ago.

All of the plaster casts had been taken off of him, obviously so he could be meticulously strapped down. He was laying there as pale as milk and shivering badly, his eyes darker than before. The arm which had previously been set in plaster was now exposed - the scars long and wide, with the entire area bruised beyond belief. His left arm was tracked with more blood and bruises from hastily taken blood samples and his leg, also out of plaster, was incredibly swollen, red and scarred.

Small, rapid gasps of air were coming out of his dry, cracked lips. There were far more machines attached to him than before, strange coloured liquids pumping into him. There were also fresh incisions down his torso - the vivisection.

She looked up. Jack was still staring.

"Jack," she prompted.

"Yeah," he muttered, before tearing himself away from the sight of the Doctor and to the job in hand. He dragged a table full of medical equipment from the side in one swift movement, pinning it against the door.

"What are you doing?" asked Sam.

Jack didn't answer him, so Martha didn't either. She helped Jack instead, piling up everything they could along the doors and windows. When they were done Martha then moved to the Doctor, taking out his IV lines and disconnecting him from the unnecessary medical equipment as Jack ripped the plastic curtain from around the bed, throwing it onto the barrier. Then the other machines joined it.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, somewhat nervously now.

"Get rid of the suit, it's not doing anything for my calm," Jack grated, inclining his head to the quarantine suit Sam was wearing.

Sam looked at Martha, who smiled reassuring and nodded. Sam pulled off the suit and chucked it on the barrier too.

"They're going to execute him," Martha explained to Sam, undoing the straps holding the Time Lord down.

"No kidding," Sam muttered, glancing between them and the Doctor. "Don't suppose I can get out?"

"Nope, sorry," Jack responded shortly, pulling out his gun and levelling it in his hand, drawing back the cock. Martha finally finished undoing the straps before sitting next to the Doctor on the bed, running her fingers down his face. He was feverish, but that was the least of his problems right now. The dried blood around his ears and nose were both sickening indicators that the haematoma was becoming even worse.

Pretty soon the representatives that had been around the table arrived, including Colonel Mace. As soon as they saw what the group were doing, arms were at the ready.

"What is this?" the Prime Minister demanded to know.

"This is a civil uprising, sir," Jack responded, his gun primed and ready in his grip. He wasn't pointing it in anyone's direction, Martha noted. Yet.

"You can't kill the Doctor. We won't let you," Martha added, holding the Doctor's head protectively.

"Colonel Mace, please control your staff," Stein drawled.

Mace was glaring at Martha. "Jones, Harkness, stand down or you will be court marshalled!"

"Nope," Jack responded.

"This is ridiculous," one of COBRA piped up.

"Jack, Martha," Mace stressed. "Stand down now and it will be put down to a momentary lapse of judgement."

"_Our_ judgement is perfectly fine!" Martha snapped.

"Take down your barricade," the Prime Minister warned.

"No!" Martha shouted back.

"Then we'll enter by force," one of the COBRA men said, and immediately several large guns were pointing their way.

Jack immediately dived to Sam and hooked his arm around his neck, immobolising him.

"What are you doing!?" Sam babbled, struggling, at least until Jack put his gun against his head and he immediately fell still, panic shooting through his eyes.

"You take one step and this civilian's brain goes over the wall, Prime Minister," Jack warned. "And trust me, brains are really hard to wash off."

"So Unit now employ murderers," Stein supposed airily.

"Takes one to know one," Jack grated.

"Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on!?" Sam whined.

"It's simple," Jack began, staring unblinkingly at the Prime Minister. "As long as we stay in here they can't get to him."

"For how l-long?" he stuttered with fear.

"Until Emma wakes up and clears him," Martha told him gently, glancing nervously at Jack. He looked ready to shoot, and now she was a little scared. But it was all part of the plan, wasn't it? He wasn't going to actually _shoot _Sam…

The look in his eyes spoke differently.

"You wouldn't shoot him," Stein said positively.

"Oh yeah?" Jack asked, his voice suddenly very calm. Like a madman. "Try me."

Stein fell silent.

More guns were cocked.

"We'll shoot!" one of the army generals warned.

"Not before I shoot the civilian!" Jack shouted back.

The General motioned, and the soldiers took another step, the barrels of their gun now a few feet from the windows.

"One more step! I'm warning you!" Jack yelled, repositioning his gun on Sam's head.

"Stand down!" Mace demanded, but nobody was listening to him.

"We're warning you!" the General shouted.

"I'm warning you!" Jack yelled in return.

"We-"

_"I'm, too sexy for my love, too sexy for my love, love's going to leave me…"_

The sudden sound of a tinny version of Right Said Fred startled absolutely everyone in the vicinity. Martha looked around for the source, and very quickly realised where it was coming from…

"Martha, can you get that?" Jack asked, still keeping his gun pressed against Sam's head.

_"And I'm too sexy for your party, too sexy for your party, no way I'm disco dancing…"_

Martha moved forward ever so carefully, reaching into Jack's pocket to pull out his phone.

_"I'm a model, you know what I mean, and I do my little turn on the catwalk…"_

She answered. "Hello?"

_"Martha!" _it was Donna. _"You gotta get down here, Emma's waking up!"_

"Hold on," Martha directed down the phone, before looking at Jack. "Emma's waking up."

"You'd better get down there," Jack told the crowd outside the door. "She'll tell you who shot her."

One of the army generals motioned with a thumb, taking one of the soldiers with him as he took off in a run.

* * *

><p>"Martha? What's going on?" Donna asked down the phone, her hand clutching Emma's.<p>

_"There's a general on his way down to you," _Martha told her patiently.

"Why?"Donna asked, bewildered.

_"To verify what Emma says. I'm also going to put you on speakerphone, okay? We all need to hear what she says."_

She sounded nervous, Donna noted. "Martha, what's wrong?"

_"Nothing, don't worry."_

"Are you with the Doctor?"

_"Yes. I'm putting you on speakerphone now. Don't hang up."_

"Okay," Donna croaked.

The door opened and in came an army general with a soldier in tow. He stopped immediately, regarding her sitting next to Emma.

"You there," he said to an army nurse standing in the corner of the room. "Has she been awake? Have she and this Unit operative conferred?"

"No, sir," the army nurse responded.

_So the army don't even trust UNIT, now._

Donna was now well beyond her limits of calmness, but forced herself to smile down at Emma as her eyes blinked open. The poor girl was only just rising from unconsciousness and was already the centre of attention.

"Hello," Donna said gently. "Nearly lost you there."

"Why am I…" Emma began, but her eyes shot open quickly. "It shot me..." she moaned, her voice dulled and slurred by drugs.

"What did?" the General asked before Donna could get a word in edgeways.

"Oh god, it hurts…" Emma whined, looking down at the dressings on her belly.

"What shot you!?" the General demanded to know.

"Cool the beans, Rambo!" Donna cried, glaring at the General. She then decided she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of anymore attention, and looked back at Emma. "Emma, you've been shot, but you're being taken care of. You're gonna be fine."

Emma swallowed, her eyes darting back and forth around the crowd. "All these people," she said, still slurring.

"I know, just ignore 'em. We've just gotta know something though. Can you remember who shot you?"

Emma looked at her directly, tears in her eyes. "The alien."

Donna's heart abruptly turned to ice. She didn't need to turn around to see the General's smirk, it was so arrogant she was pretty sure she could hear it.

"D'you mean the Doctor?" Donna asked, fearing the worst.

"No... The other alien."

Suddenly it was so very silent. The _other _alien?

"... What other alien?" the General prompted. Donna could hear the fear in his voice.

"The snake."

"Snake!?" the General repeated, his voice suddenly without force.

"What happened, Emma?" Donna asked.

"I… stayed there 'til the Doctor passed out, then I left to see… to see if I could get him some painkillers. But I heard him cry out, so I went back and there… it looked like a snake. A big, walking snake. It shot me, then when I looked up again it was gone. The Doctor… he crawled over… to help me. He used his leg to stop me bleeding. Then you shot him loads of times." Her eyes moved to the General. She still looked quite dazed. "Why did you do that?"

Donna internally breathed a sigh of relief as the General gazed at the woman, gaping for a moment. Then obviously he decided he didn't need to defend his soldiers, as he totally ignored the question. "So there was another alien species?"

Emma ignored him in return. "Is the Doctor okay?" she directed at Donna instead. "Do you know him?"

"Yeah, I do, he's my friend. And now we can start taking proper care of him," Donna replied gently.

"He didn't have painkillers," Emma whined, her eyes watering. "He was… he was hurting so much. They weren't taking care of him."

"I know," Donna said. "We'll get him everything he needs now."

The General suddenly interrupted. "Actually, control of the alien is yet to be decided…"

"Oh, shut up," Donna snapped, and held the phone to her ear again. "Martha, did you get that?"

_"Loud and clear," _Martha confirmed. _"Thanks, Donna."_

* * *

><p>Martha hung up, and looked at the Prime Minister.<p>

There was a brief silence.

"Well?" she asked.

"Recall the representatives," the Prime Minister muttered. "We need to vote again."

* * *

><p>Martha stayed by the Doctor's side as the representatives went off to confer, along with Jack, who'd apologised to Sam in a 'I had to do it, you understand?' kind of way. Donna had arrived ten minutes later, sitting beside Martha.<p>

"He looks like hell," Donna stated bluntly.

"I can't do anything yet," Martha murmured. She'd spent the last ten minutes constructing a plan in her head if UNIT managed to get control. She'd get him a clavicle collar, morphine, put him on oxygen and then have every inch of him scanned before prepping him for surgery.

That was if she wasn't fired for the stunt she and Jack had pulled.

Donna took his hand. "God, I never imagined him like this."

"Helpless," Martha murmured.

Donna nodded. "... Did we figure out how he crashed, yet?"

"No," Martha replied quietly.

"He can tell us when he wakes up," Donna said positively.

_If he wakes up, _Martha though dully.

The door suddenly opened and Jack came in, grinning.

Martha got up immediately. "Did we get it?"

"Full control!" Jack enthused.

Any chance to celebrate was quickly interrupted by a deep voice from the corridor.

"Doctor Jones, a word, please."

Martha looked over Jack's shoulder, and saw Colonel Mace. This was it. She was going to be fired and taken off of the Doctor's care.

But she'd damn well fight her corner.

She stepped out into the corridor with Mace, closing the door behind her. She could feel Jack and Donna's beady eyes on her, following her every move.

"I'm suppose I'm fired," Martha said.

"I don't condone what you did Martha. Threatening a civilian is almost unforgivable. However, it was Harkness who did that and his organisation operates with different restrictions, and the civilian has not pressed charges, so he will not be rebuked. Unofficially, in the situation I would consider it a sly move. You needed time, and you managed to get it. On reflection there was probably little else you could do."

Martha stared at him, her jaw agape. "You're not firing me?"

Martha almost saw Mace smile. "You are the best doctor we've got, and certainly the best hope the Doctor has right now. Consider this an unofficial verbal warning. Now go and fix the damage they caused. That's an order."

Martha perked up immediately. "Yessir."


	8. The Very Hungry Caterpillar

**A/N: **Happy Hallowe'en and all that jazz! Though to be fair, how can you have a happy hallowe'en? That's a paradox. Answers on a postcard...

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 8 - The Very Hungry Caterpillar<span>

"The infernal serpent; he it was whose guile, stirred up with envy and revenge, deceived the mother of mankind, what time his pride had cast him out from heaven, with all his host…"

Donna turned the page of Milton's Paradise Lost, well aware that was she had absolutely no idea what she was even reading. Martha had advised her to go and get a book to read to him as familiar voices might help him, and it had been the first book she had spotted on the shelf at Waterstones. She was sure he was understanding it anyway. He was a bit clever like that.

"... Of fallen angels; by whose aid, aspiring to set himself in glory above his peers, he trusted to have equalled the Most High, if he opposed; and with ambitious aim, against the throne and monarchy of God, raised impious war in heaven and battle proud, with vain attempt..."

"How's it going?" came a voice from behind her, and Donna looked around to see Jack grinning.

"Can't understand a bloody word of this book," Donna admitted.

Jack's grinned broadened, before inclining his head to the Doctor. "He looks interested."

Donna looked at the Time Lord. He'd been operated on the day before and was now on oxygen, collared and fully cleaned and stitched up, including a shave. He was still pale and most definitely comatose. He also had a bandage around his head - Martha had explained that they had tried to drain the haematoma, but they hadn't had powerful enough tools to get through his particularly hard skull and they were now reconsidering their options. In the meantime, he now had a bald patch on one side of his head, so Martha had bandaged fairly moderately to stop him getting attention. He'd already had enough of that.

"Yeah, that's the word," Donna replied, looking back at Jack. "I think he's internally screaming at me to go get The Very Hungry Caterpillar."

Jack snorted with laughter. "Probably," he agreed, just as Martha entered with a crowd of UNIT doctors. Donna quickly got out of the way, lugging Paradise Lost with her.

"Need to take him for post-op scans," she explained.

"What are you doing with his head?" Jack wondered.

"I don't know," Martha confessed as the doctors finished packing him up and wheeled him out. "No tools could get through his skull. We're looking at other options."

He nodded. "Is it getting worse?"

"His brain's already swollen as much as it can and the bleeding seems to have stopped," Martha explained. "At least it can't get much worse than it already is. It's just the longer he waits the higher the risk those skull fragments are going to burrow deeper into his brain. Thank god he _is _comatose, that's a hell of a headache." She glanced behind her where he was already disappearing. "Better go," she said, and rushed off.

Jack sighed, dropping down into a chair. "I hate the waiting," he confessed.

Donna nodded, if a little distracted, and reached to the table for the TV remote to turn it on.

"Unit are paying for that, y'know," Jack said, watching her.

"He's not using it," Donna replied, flipping through the channels. "You get a private suite you gotta use the TV."

"Fair enough," Jack supposed.

Auction program, cookery program, house buying program, cookery program, news, house buying program…

"Wait, go back," Jack said quickly, sitting up.

She flicked back to the news - a man standing outside the Royal Hope in the midst of a baying crowd.

_"... The leader of the pro-human league has said that he would be forced to organise a storming of the hospital if they are not told any more information about the alien."_

A man came on - named Gordon Beck by the subtitles. He was angry. _"We've got family in there, we've got friends and humans that are currently being abandoned because of one alien, and they're not telling us anything! We're not even allowed in to see them! We're sick of the lies and sidestepping this government has fed us and we demand answers!"_

It went back to the presenter. _"A Government spokesperson stated that the alien is not jeopardising the care of humans and that more information will be released as soon as it is available. Jon Knowles, BBC News."_

"They're gonna storm the hospital," Donna breathed, looking at Jack. He was already at the window so she followed, looking down into the street. It was absolutely packed. No matter how many guards the army and UNIT put on the entrance, there was absolutely no way they would be able to hold off that many people.

"We've gotta move him," Jack muttered, and ran out the door.

* * *

><p>Jack reached the room they were scanning the Doctor in, outside of which stood Colonel Mace, gazing through the window. Jack attempted to enter the room to get to Martha, but Mace quickly stopped him.<p>

"Problem?" Mace supposed, looking at Jack's face.

"The public are about to storm the hospital," Jack said, struggling to catch his breath. "We need to get him out of here."

Mace gazed at him for a moment. "Speak to Martha," he said, and gestured to the door.

Jack barged right in, nearly sending the door off of its hinges. Martha was behind the screen, her eyes widening when she saw him.

"Jack!" she cried. "The radiation!"

"Why the hell should I care!?" he shouted back. "Martha, we've gotta get him out of here!"

"What?" she asked.

"The public are about to storm the hospital!"

Martha nodded, understanding that quickly. "Let me finish here. Tell Colonel Mace to get patient transport organised for the Loch as quick as he can."

* * *

><p>"So what's the Loch?" Donna was asking forty-five minutes later, standing on a helipad wearing cumbersome black overalls and a large helmet on her head complete with microphone.<p>

"Ask me later," Jack muttered under his breath to her as somebody passed them by.

"But-"

She stopped as the doors opened and a gurney was pushed out, on which was draped some sort of tarpaulin-like material with something underneath. Martha was following. If Donna didn't know better, and she didn't, she'd say it was a body.

"What-"

Jack dug her in the ribs. She looked at him, annoyed. "What did you do that for?"

"The alien is under that sheet and it's dead, okay?"

"WHA-"

Jack clamped a hand over her mouth. "Smile for the cameras and journalists," he prompted, gesturing to the small crowd. "We're happy the alien's dead, aren't we?"

Donna ripped his hand from her mouth. "Why are you-"

"Play the game," he urged, his voice getting a little bit angry now.

Then she got it. They were telling the world that he was dead. She quickly sobered up, putting on her most genuine-fake smile. Though frankly she was annoyed that Jack hadn't felt the need to tell her this earlier.

The apparent dead Doctor was loaded into the helicopter, and Jack followed. So Donna followed, climbing up to get inside.

She'd never been inside a helicopter before. It was deceptively spacious. She sat herself on one of the benches beside Jack as another UNIT member joined them, closing up the entrance behind.

As soon as it was sealed, Martha quickly whipped off the tarpaulin-like material to reveal the Doctor, strapped down carefully with his head in blocks. He looked awful.

"Okay, ready to launch," came a voice through Donna's helmet. It creeped her out for a moment, but then realised it was the pilot from a speaker in her helmet. "Are we ready?"

"Go," Martha responded, and slowly it became incredibly noisy as the blades began to spin.

"Where arewe going?" Donna suddenly asked, feeling slightly miffed that Jack hadn't even attempted to tell her yet.

"The Loch in Scotland," Jack told her. "It's a hospital near Loch Shin for injured Unit service personnel. He's already on staff so it won't look strange. He's just another injured serviceman. To the human race he's dead. Plus it's only accessible by helicopter so we'll know if anyone's coming."

"You could've told me earlier."

"Sorry, busy," he said, shrugging slightly. "Oh, and if Martha asks you to do anything just do it, okay?"

"Okay," she affirmed, nodding. "But why would I have to do anything?"

Jack looked at Martha, who was keeping her fingers on the pulse in the Doctor's wrist. She nodded at him.

"Because we needed to get him out quickly, but he's actually too sick to travel," Jack said honestly. "On paper he won't survive this journey."

Donna swallowed. "Okay," she said again as her heartbeat most definitely sped up.

* * *

><p>Martha kept her fingers on the Doctor's pulse. Its steady four-beat rhythm was reassuring, if nothing else.<p>

The Doctor had remained stable, just sleeping away the flight so peacefully that Martha did begin to wonder why she was so stressed. He was the Doctor. He was made of titanium and diamonds. But that didn't mean she was going to relax. Not for a second. Not until he was back in a hospital with all the things he needed.

As soon as they got over the border he suddenly lurched violently, nearly snapping his head straps.

"Doctor!" Martha cried, keeping her fingers on his pulse. "Oh, don't do this…"

He lurched again. The shivering that had always been present increased dramatically as suddenly he launched into convulsions.

Martha quickly let go of his wrist. "Jack, monitor his pulse," she ordered as she rummaged in her medical bag for something, _anything _she could give him. She couldn't let him hurt himself.

"Martha, he's burning up," Jack said, anxious just as the Doctor began to violently fit.

_What the hell is causing this!?_

"Get him undressed, he needs to cool down. Support the breaks and keep his head and neck especially in line with each other, hold him down as best you can so he can't move," she ordered. She couldn't risk him convulsing and hurting his head or neck even more. He had to be held down.

She quickly rummaged in the bag again as Jack and Donna obliged, stripping him almost completely naked, but as the monitor showed his temperature rapidly climbing, she knew it would do no good. She checked the bag again, until finally her hands came across something. She pulled it out, looked at the label, and suddenly felt very cold.

Intravenous aspirin. The spike in fever was most likely causing the seizure, and the aspirin would reduce his temperature and potentially stop the seizing, which was what she was desperate most for right now. But that meant causing him anaphylactic shock. But it was the only thing she had. Besides wishful thinking.

She looked in the bag again, but couldn't see any adrenaline.

_How could she have forgotten to pack it!?_

He continued to convulse. With the intravenous aspirin in her hand she desperately and silently begged him to stop, but his temperature was increasing. He wasn't stopping, he was only just getting started.

"Chris, how long until we get to the Loch?" she shouted.

"About twenty minutes!" came the reply from the pilot.

Martha swore. She didn't ordinarily swear. She looked up at Jack, her knuckles pure white from the strength she was gripping the high-strength aspirin.

He seemed to read her mind. "Do it," he said.

"But…"

"Better the devil you know," he countered.

Martha gazed at him for a moment, and eventually nodded. She then held down his arm with some assistance from Jack, and administered it through his cannula.

He reacted very quickly. His temperature quickly began to reduce, and the seizure eventually petered out into nothing. His eyes opened briefly, but then quickly closed again.

"It worked," Donna said quickly. "He's okay. He woke up."

"No," Jack muttered. "That was a muscle spasm. He's far from okay."

"What d'you mean?"

"He's severely allergic to what Martha just gave him."

"Then why'd you bloody give him it!?" Donna wanted to know.

"I can treat anaphylaxis, I'll have trouble fixing anymore brain damage," Martha told her. "I had to stop the seizure."

"So what have we gotta do?"

"Wait for him to react to the aspirin, and get ready for a fight."

"How long'll that be?"

Martha looked at her. "I don't know, but I'm praying more than twenty minutes."

* * *

><p>Nobody stopped holding the Doctor as the helicopter flew onwards, and neither did anyone speak.<p>

He wasn't reacting to the aspirin, not yet, but Martha could swear his breathing was getting worse. She got out the equipment for intubation, somehow knowing it was only an inevitability.

She wasn't wrong. Three minutes until they landed, it became apparent he was struggling to breath. His face was beginning to swell.

Suddenly the portable heart rate monitor began to fail. Martha immediately went for the defibrillator. "Clear!" she yelled, and zapped him over each heart in quick succession. The monitor came into life again, and Martha quickly got out an intubation tube and laryngoscope.

"Keep him still, Donna," Martha ordered her, and Donna quickly obliged. Martha quickly took him out of the blocks and adjusted his head, using the laryngoscope to pull his tongue left and push down the tube. The desperate small breaths of air indicated the right placement, and she quickly affixed a bag-valve on the end.

"Donna, squeeze this every three to four seconds," she instructed as she taped the tube to his mouth to fix it in place.

"This isn't happening," Donna moaned, but Martha ignored her. She was concentrated on the Doctor, but there wasn't much else she could do for him.

She got up and grabbed the radio from the pilot. "Doctor Martha Jones to the Loch, are you receiving me?"

_"This is the Loch, hearing you loud and clear. Go ahead, Doctor Jones."_

"Code 9 incoming as discussed. We'll need all hands on the helipad and adrenaline ready to administer as soon as we touch down. Patient is currently in the early stages of a severe allergic reaction and I can't stop it. He is intubated with a bag valve and will need breathing assistance as quickly as possible. He has already suffered a cardiac arrest and required defibrillation but hearts are now beating normally for the moment. Make sure that room in the ICU is ready to take him with everything I asked for. ETA two minutes."

_"Heard, two minutes," _came the reply. _"The room is ready and all hands are ready waiting for your arrival. Will have adrenaline and breathing equipment with us. He'll get everything he needs, Doctor."_

"Thank you. Over and out."

She hung up the radio and went back to the Doctor. He'd swollen even more. Jack had taken control of the bag valve as Donna just held onto his arm.

"Oh, come on," Martha begged the Time Lord. "Just hold on for a minute and a half. Please."


	9. A Trip to Homebase

**A/N: **I'll review reply next chapter. THAT's the interesting one. :D

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 9 - A Trip to Homebase<span>

Four hours had passed since they'd touched down at the Loch.

Donna had been taken to the side as the Doctor had been taken at a dangerous speed down the corridor with Martha screaming instructions, but Donna didn't protest. It was becoming a little bit too much. She'd almost just witnessed a death. It wasn't like Lance, she hadn't seen him die, only known it. This time it had nearly been right in front of her eyes. She'd nearly seen her first corpse. By the time they'd got to the helipad he had been so swollen he had been unrecognisable.

So she got a bite to eat, had a walk around and then went to the visitor's lounge where a few other people were, before sitting down in an unoccupied corner and taking the first magazine she saw, which happened to be Heat. She flicked through it absently, the words on the pages blurring into one black inky mess. To think only a while ago she'd actually been interested in this sort of stuff.

"Mum, it's me. I'll be a little late cos Chris is in surgery, can you put Jo to bed?" someone suddenly said down a phone near her.

"Mum!" Donna cried out loud in realisation, scrabbling for her phone. She then realised her outburst had been somewhat loud and now she was being stared at. She gave an apologetic smile to the woman on the phone before resuming what she was doing. Fifteen missed calls, all from her mum.

_Oh god._

She called the number. It rang four times, and she picked up. _"Hello?"_

"Mum, it's Donna."

_"Donna!?" _her mum screeched. _"I've called about a hundred times!"_

_Fifteen._

"Well, here I am," was all Donna could think to say.

_"Where are you? The Job Centre have been ringing!"_

"I'm…" She foraged quickly in her head for something. "... Holiday."

_"What?"_

"Yeah, me and Jack, we're on holiday."

_"Oh, nice for some. Where are you?"_

Donna quickly looked around the room for any inspiration, and her eyes settled on a poster in the corner reminding her to get her jabs before heading to…

"... Mexico."

_"Well they've taken away your dole now cos you haven't turned up for three meetings so don't expect any money when you get back!"_

Donna rolled her eyes. The rebate letter obviously hadn't reached them yet, but she most definitely had £10,000 extra in the bank. She could have bought that entire bookstore if she'd wanted. "It'll be fine," she fobbed off.

_"Don't be so blase! Donna Noble, you need to learn how to start handling your finances! I-"_

"Sorry mum, love you, gotta go!" she said quickly and hung up, cutting her mum off in mid-sentence.

_That felt good._

She slipped the phone back in her pocket and then noticed everyone was staring at her again.

"What?" she asked seriously, just as Jack appeared in the doorway.

Donna stood up immediately. "Is he…"

"He's fine, he's stable," Jack told her, glanced at the crowd of onlookers, and gestured out the door. She followed into the empty corridor, shutting the door behind her.

"He's been stabilised and taken to the ICU," he told her. "I've convinced Martha to get some sleep and promised I'd do her paperwork, so…"

"I'll go sit with him," Donna completed, nodding. "Think I lost my book, though."

He grinned. Just a little. "Just talk. There's gonna be a lotta nurses in and out to keep an eye on him and he's been admitted as a normal Unit soldier, under the name Leo Young so nobody takes too much interest in him. We'd quite like it to stay that way so keep your chat… err…"

"Star Wars-free?" Donna suggested.

"Yeah," he said, before adding, "and please stop finishing my sentences."

"Well we _are _a couple," Donna jested. "I told mum we were on holiday in Mexico together."

He pulled a face. "You ain't gonna get a tan here."

"Oh, don't worry, I don't tan, I burn."

This time his grin stretched fully. "Go sit with him," he said, turning to leave.

"... Is he… normal?" Donna suddenly asked.

Jack turned back, confused. "What d'you mean?"

"He's not… looking like a balloon?"

He shook his head. "He's fine. Some rashes, but they'll clear up. He's got a few more tubes now and he's not breathing on his own, his hearts are beating quite slowly but he's still in a coma. He just looks asleep. He's good, honest."

She nodded. "Okay, sorry,"

"It's fine, we're feeling that too," he told her, and quickly ran off.

* * *

><p>Two hours later Martha was up again despite Jack's best efforts. She was still doing her hair as she strode boldly down the corridor to the Doctor's room.<p>

"So what story did we go with in the end?" she asked.

"He's Private Leo Young, involved in an automobile accident during training," Jack informed her.

"And where's the real Leo?"

"He's on temporary discharge to visit his family. He knows."

"Okay," she said as they reached the room and Jack opened the door. Immediately they stopped dead.

The entire room was adorned in flowers, grapes and Get Well Soon cards.

"Yeah, think the secret's out," Martha heard Jack muttered beside her.

The Doctor was still comatose. On his left was Donna, but on his right a man in a wheelchair with one leg, dressed in a patient's gown, holding the Doctor's hand carefully.

The man looked up on their entry. "Oh sorry ma'am, sir, I'll get out of your way," he said making to leave.

"Wait," Martha said quickly, stepping forward. "What's your name?"

"Private Harrison Long," the soldier informed her, saluting.

"Harrison, do you know who he is?"

"Yes ma'am. He's the Doctor."

"... How do you know?"

Harrison looked at her awkwardly. "I recognise him, ma'am."

"Did you tell the other patients?" she asked, gesturing to the get well soon sentiments.

"No, ma'am. We all know who he is."

"How?"

"With respect ma'am, you didn't do basic training, did you?"

"No," Martha admitted.

"Every recruit from every discipline studies case files so we know what to expect," he informed her. "One of them is always the Doctor. Every year the General used to do a speech about his experiences with the Doctor." He paused for a brief smile. "And he always insisted we called him the Brigadier."

Martha frowned. "But I never hear anyone talk about him."

"Of course we don't. If anyone found out about him…" He shrugged. "Well, recent events. He's the best kept secret in Unit. May I be dismissed?"

Martha's brain eventually caught up with the rest of her. "Of course, sorry," she said, stepping aside to let him pass.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, making to leave, but suddenly stopped on the threshold. "... I'll pray for him, ma'am."

"Thank you," Martha replied as he left.

"Wow," Donna said in the silence that followed. "Wonder why they do that?"

"To put a face to the alien," Jack told her, dropping down into the opposite seat. "You've seen all the humans in that hospital. Terrified of him, just because of what he represents. It would be so easy to point and shoot aliens like a videogame but showing them the Doctor shows that not everyone is an enemy. They're not scary aliens, they're just like us, and need to be respected as we respect humans."

Donna smiled. "Poetic," she said.

"Sorry, won't happen again."

"I liked it," Donna admitted. "So what happens next?"

"We need to work out his brain surgery. I'll take him for some more scans," Martha told her. "But he should be starting to heal. Something's happened to him and I can't figure out what it is."

"What?" Donna asked blankly.

"Something made him crash in the helicopter. Any drugs they gave him were out of his system and he metabolised the tranquillisers by then. And it wasn't his head injuries. He's not infected, he's not got any illness. There's something else I'm missing. The scans before we left and after we arrived are massively different."

"In what way?" Jack asked.

"Before we left his internal systems looked fine, but now they're damaged. he can't even breathe on his own. I think it's getting worse."

Suddenly the room felt very cold as everyone took that in.

"Either way," Martha continued after a moment, "the damage in his head needs clearing, we just need a tool strong enough get through his skull."

There was a brief pause before Donna spoke. "... Have you tried Homebase?"

* * *

><p>Ten hours later, Martha was stood in surgery in a full surgeon's garb though she was not going anywhere near the Doctor, complete with hat and mask as she stared at the surgeon holding a Black and Decker drill from Homebase above the Time Lord's exposed skull.<p>

"Remember, go hard until you make some progress, then be careful," Martha said quietly. "Just as we planned."

The surgeon nodded. "Ready, ma'am."

"Do it."

* * *

><p>Donna was watching the Doctor's TV again, lounged out on the sofa draped in a blanket. She had attempted to get some sleep after the Doctor had been whisked off for brain surgery but hadn't been able to get a single wink. Since then she'd been watching steady stream of early morning kid's programmes, hour after hour slipping by until suddenly the doors opened and the Doctor was rolled in.<p>

She sat up immediately. "Martha?" she asked, quickly getting upright.

It wasn't Martha, it was Jack and a cluster of doctors and nurses. He shot her a smile and move to her, taking her aside as the doctors and nurses settled him back in.

"They've drained the haematoma and extracted the skulls fragments," he told her. "It's pretty much up to him now."

She nodded.

"How are you doing?" he wondered.

She shrugged. "Feeling kinda useless."

"You're with him, that's not useless," Jack insisted. "Your voice is helping and you're the first line of defence if anything happens."

She nodded again. "Yeah… Sorry."

"It's fine," Jack insisted. "And we've dropped the fake identity now. Everyone knows who he is anyway."

She couldn't help but smirk a little at that. "Okay," she said, and took her usual seat.

"Remember, anything, anything at all, even if you're not sure it's a thing, hit the button," Jack said, pointing at it at the head of the bed.

She nodded for a third time, and retook the Doctor's hand as Jack left. He now had a thick bandage around his head.

"Well, Jack says you've finally had what you needed and you'll get all better now so maybe soon my conversations won't be so one-sided anymore," she joked. "Anyway, called mum, said I was in Mexico, don't think she's had that rebate letter yet so she was stressing about money. She'll probably get it tomorrow. She opens my post anyway. Don't think I can take that phone call. I could just turn it off, I guess. All that stuff about roaming charges on Watchdog. … Oh God! Presents! I forgot I'd have to get presents… Where the hell do I buy Mexican fridge magnets in Scotland? I'll just get a sombrero somewhere. They'd have sombreros in Scotland, right? Or a poncho? Must have.

"So anyway, spent the last five hours watching TV. I haven't slept. Don't think anyone has. I'm pretty sure Jack hasn't, but… does he even to need it? I mean, I've never heard him say he's going to bed. He's always around. His hair's never messed up. Why does he always look perfect? His hair must be sculpted to stay that way. That or a lot of gel. You like hair gel, don't you? Do you have some kinda spacey hair gel? You know, atom perfect hair every time? What about your clothes? Do you wash them? Well, obviously you do, but have you got a washing machine and tumble dryer or d'you have one of those space machines which just go ping and it's all perfect? … Do they even exist?"

He suddenly spasmed. Donna frowned, leaning forward, and consequently nearly got smacked in the face by his arm suddenly jumping up into the air.

"Oi!" she yelped, backing off. Then he began to convulse.

"No, no, no, no!" Donna shouted, and hit the button. "Jack!" she called out the door. "Someone!"

Almost immediately several doctors arrived and descended on him. Donna backed off, her arms in the air.

"Donna!" it was Jack, skidding to a halt beside her.

"He's having another fit," she said quickly.

Jack swore, looking at the commotion. "Not now," he begged. "C'mon, Doctor. Not now."

* * *

><p>Martha arrived two minutes later when the Doctor had been stabilised again, her hair in a mess.<p>

"What happened?" she asked quickly.

"Seizure," one of the doctors replied. "He's been stabilised and we've increased the oxygen."

She nodded, already moving forward to examine him, but Jack quickly reached his arm out to stop her.

"Martha, go back to bed," he said, leading her out of the room to the corridor.

"Jack, I _need _to be here…" she stressed.

"You don't," Jack replied. "Bad judgements are made when you're tired, you owe it to him to get some sleep."

"But what if he crashes again?"

"Then we've got a team of highly trained doctors on the case," Jack supplied. "Go the hell to bed before I end up doping you."

Martha sighed, rubbing at her eyes. Jack could tell that wasn't because of the need to sleep, it was because she was trying to stop herself from crying. "I just keep thinking about the crash," she confessed.

"What about it?"

"All the safeties were off, Jack. He wasn't bound or anything. It's almost like he stepped into that escape pod wanting to…"

"No," Jack interrupted her smoothly. "He'd never do that. Besides, if he wanted to die he picked a bad place to crash. With you here he'll be fine."

She sighed, nodding. "I guess you're right. But…"

"No buts, go to bed," Jack ordered brusquely.

"No, it's not that. It's… he's so badly hurt. Internally he's just… his organs are just losing their function for no reason and these seizures... Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Jack paused before answering. "You mean the 'is he trying to regenerate' thinking?"

Martha nodded. "Maybe I should let him go. Maybe he's trying to regenerate. Maybe this coma is just part of the process of him…"

She trailed off.

"Hippocratic Oath, Doctor Jones," he reminded her.

"I know," she said, sighing. "This is… it's so hard."

"No one said it was easy," Jack replied. "Now turn off your beeper and go to bed."

* * *

><p>The Doctor crashed three more times in the twelve hours Martha had slept.<p>

Now she was back in the Doctor's room, and had been for about half an hour while Donna went to get some food. Now Donna was hovering in the doorway, just watching.

"Why are you so sick?" Martha whispered to him, holding his hand. "I can fix you, I promise, I just don't know what's wrong with you. I need to know what's making you so sick. If you're trying to regenerate… I'm sorry. But I'm not letting it happen."

Nothing but the sound of the machine giving him air replied in hisses.

Martha sighed and pulled the bedsheet a little more over him.

Donna stepped forward, her arms wrapped around herself. She gave Martha a weak smile. "He's he doing?" she asked.

"His brain's starting to go back to normal size again, his breaks are healing fast and a lot of his bruises are fading," Martha told her, still massaging the Doctor's limp hand. "I just…" She paused for a moment, breathing out. "... I don't know what's making him so ill. Why he won't wake up. Why he's suddenly bradycardic."

Donna paused to consider this, before taking a seat next to Martha. "Dunno, I'd offer to help but I stopped watching Casualty ages back. Ellen got hit by that motorbike then that was sorta it for me," she confessed.

Martha smiled. Just a little.

"All those scans you've done, there must be something," Donna reasoned.

"Nothing."

"Not even in his blood?"

"We've taken some, but we can't analyse it," Martha stressed. "It's too alien. We'd need a…"

She suddenly trailed off, her eyes widening.

"What?" Donna asked, sitting up.

"Oh God, I hope they kept it," was all Martha muttered, and then ran out the door.

Donna was about to follow, but one hiss of the ventilator quickly reminded her she had a better place to be. She sat down, took the Doctor's hand, and waited.

* * *

><p>Martha flashed by Jack ten seconds later. He dived out behind her.<p>

"Martha!" he called.

"Can't talk, running!" she shouted back as she disappeared around the corner.

Jack followed her, down the winding corridors until they reached the phlebotomy department. Martha went in and Jack quickly followed.

"Do we still have samples of the Doctor's blood?" Martha asked the group of startled people in there quickly.

"What? Oh, yes, ma'am," one quickly said, holding up the labelled tube in question.

"Get onto Unit in London," Martha instructed. "They should have a vial of his blood from just after he was admitted. Compare them, see if there's anything significantly different."

"Yes, ma'am," the man quickly replied, turning to his computer.

Martha left again, stopping outside the door.

"What is it?" Jack asked.

"If they've still got his blood, and I bloody hope they have, then whatever's happened to him must be in it," Martha said, talking at a million miles per hour. "If there's a difference between the two samples then we know that something's definitely wrong with him and he's not just trying to regenerate, and we can start treating it."

Jack nodded, just as Martha's beeper went off.

"He's crashing again," Martha moaned, and started running.


	10. Do Not Resuscitate

Chapter 10 - Do Not Resuscitate

"And _where _is the alien being kept?" drawled a voice from the office as Martha passed by hurriedly with the blood results. She recognised that voice, and she immediately stopped dead.

_No. No. No._

She couldn't help it. She burst into the room, and immediately saw Doctor Stein.

"What the hell are you doing here!?" she snapped.

Stein turned to look at her, as though regarding a small amoeba. "Doctor Jones," he acknowledged in his usual boring drone.

"Excuse me," another man said.

Martha looked at the UNIT general behind the desk, her expression immediately changing to one of surprise. "Sir!?"

He dived out from behind the desk, moving to her to extend a hand. "General John Spitz," he said.

She shook the hand, bewildered. "Sir, I wasn't informed of your arrival…"

"That's quite all right," Spitz replied. "I just arrived with Doctor Stein, here." He gestured to the man in question. "Colonel Mace sent me to preside over proceedings to make this easier for you."

Martha's expression soured again as she looked once more at Stein. "With respect, sir," she almost spat, "this is a Unit base, we have full control over the Doctor's care and he has no business being here."

"I'm afraid not, Doctor Jones," Spitz replied. "Stein is here to represent the army's interest in the patient. This was part of the contract - were you not told?"

Martha looked at Stein again. His upper lip was curling into a sneer. So the Doctor had become nothing more than a contract.

"No, sir," she muttered, still angry.

"Stein is here to watch over the treatment, no more," General Spitz. "He is at no liberty to interfere with his care - only advise."

"Indeed," Stein drawled again, clearly bored by their discussion. "I would like to see the specimen, now."

Martha's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me, Doctor Stein," she said, somehow seeming to make his name rhyme with 'mud'. "I'm Head Doctor on this case, and under my care we refer to him as the Doctor, his species is a Time Lord, and he is a 'he'. You'll also do the same."

Stein snorted with obviously fake laughter, looking at the General. "General Spitz, surely this is ludicrous."

"I'm afraid not, Stein," Spitz replied calmly. "Doctor Jones is heading his care so you will comply to her rules, within reason, of course."

Martha couldn't help the flash of a smirk as Stein's eyes narrowed.

"Now Doctor Jones, if you would be so kind as to take Doctor Stein to our patient's room?"

Martha snapped a salute, turned on her heel and left at an absurdly fast pace. Stein seemed to have no problem keeping up.

"Perhaps you could inform me of its care after it left the Royal Hope?" Stein wondered.

"We've performed surgery," Martha grated, not breaking her stride.

"Details, Doctor Jones," Stein prompted.

"That's all I'm at liberty to discuss," she snapped back.

Stein seemed to sense she knew her rights as Head Doctor, so didn't pursue it. "I see you've carried out blood tests, any particular reason?" he asked.

"He's become very ill very quickly and these results will help," she replied bluntly.

"Surely they can't be analysed? It's alien blood - unrecognisable to your highly-trained Unit phlebotomists."

Martha detected a hint of sarcasm in the last of his sentence, but decided to ignore it. "Unlike the army, we have methods of reasoning when it comes to detecting what we need to, Stein," she grated as they reached the Doctor's room. She pulled open the door and marched inside, not even holding it for him. It could swing back and break his nose for all she cared.

Donna and Jack were there, the both of them looking up on their entrance.

Jack's face considerably darkened at the sight of Stein. "Martha, what the hell is he doing here?"

"Don't ask," Martha grated, already moving to the Doctor to check his temperature.

"Just an observer," Stein assured them in a tone that was no way assuring.

"Martha, he _can't be here!" _Donna almost squeaked, moving closer to the Doctor. Martha watched as Jack seemed to unconsciously move closer too, as though they were protecting him from Stein.

Stein ignored all of this. "Well, it's certainly looking… err…" he paused to gaze at the Doctor for a moment. "... Damaged."

"I'll damage _you _in a minute," Martha heard Donna mutter under her breath.

"I would go as far as to say your care has been extremely detrimental to the alien's health," Stein continued, oblivious. "Do you know what you're doing? Perhaps I could advise?"

Martha suddenly turned to look at him, feeling so angry that for a moment she very nearly punched him. "As I told you before, _Stein," _she said, spitting the name again. "You will address this man as a he, his name is the Doctor and his species is Time Lord…!"

"Oh, sorry, _he," _Stein emphasised insincerely. _"He _looks worse than when _he _left our care."

_"He _is much bloody better out of your hands," Donna snapped.

"Doesn't look like it," Stein drawled.

"Excuse me," Martha suddenly said, looking pointedly at Jack and Donna. "I must confer with my consultants."

She led Jack and Donna out of the room, stopping a nurse on the way. "Leah, Doctor Stein is not allowed to touch the Doctor, would you go in there and keep an eye on him, please?"

"Yes, ma'am," the young woman replied, and stepped into the room. Martha shut the door behind her and turned to Jack and Donna.

"Martha what the fuck is he doing here?" Jack swore, his jaw tensed.

"It was part of the deal or something, the army sent him to check up on me. I can't get rid of him," Martha replied quietly.

"He's gonna try and experiment on him again," Donna pointed out.

Martha shook her head. "He wouldn't dare. He lives by the rules and they forbid him without my expressed permission. I can play by the rules too. So don't talk to him, just say you're under my orders not to in case you give him false information, okay?"

Two nods came back at her.

"Look, I've got the blood results back," Martha said, handing Jack the file she was holding.

"And?" Donna asked, peeking at the pages but was clearly a little confused.

"There's definitely something different. Some sort of compound we don't recognise."

"What kind of compound?" Jack asked.

"I don't know, but I'm betting it's poison."

"Poison?" Donna asked, frowning. "When did that happen?"

"Again, I don't know, but this doesn't help, not knowing the kind of poison it is."

"Why not?" Jack asked.

"Because that means I don't know how to start treating it. It's clearly overwhelming his system and the only thing I can do is keep him alive while he fights it. But the state he's in, I don't think he's got much fighting left in him."

"When did he get poisoned, though?" Donna persisted.

"The army doctors?" Jack suggested.

"No, we'd recognise the compound," Martha countered.

"So an alien poison?" Donna wondered.

"It must've been the other alien," Jack deduced. "Same time it shot Emma, it must've given him a hit of something, maybe as insurance..."

"Are you saying he's got assassins after him?" Donna gaped.

"Maybe."

Martha's beeper suddenly went off, and she didn't even need to look at it. She dived back into the room where the Doctor was in VF again, right in front of Stein who was doing nothing.

She practically shoved him out the way as the Doctor suddenly flatlined. She dove for defibrillators immediately and shocked him straight to his hearts. The nurse started CPR, before Martha quickly administered another shock. The monitor came back to life and the Doctor quickly resumed his bradycardic rhythm, and everyone relaxed once more.

"Oh dear, we do seem to be having a bit of trouble, don't we?" Stein said, almost mockingly.

Martha ignored him, turning to the nurse. "Leah, give him another dose of amiodarone and fit him with a hands free defibrillator. We can't keep doing this. He's already been through enough trauma and this probably isn't helping."

"Yes, ma'am," the nurse replied, quickly getting to work.

"If he remains bradycardic we might even need to consider a pacemaker," Martha muttered. She looked at Jack and Donna for a reaction, and got exactly what she'd expected. The both of them, obviously struggling to picture the Time Lord with a pacemaker, and before eventually deciding it didn't look right.

"Maybe he'll get better on his own. After we sort out…" Donna trailed off, glancing at Stein.

"Maybe," Martha muttered, and swept out the door.

* * *

><p>Klax-lox didn't dare go back to the ship. Not while the Time Lord was still breathing. The Chief would shoot him on the spot.<p>

So he hid, waiting for his opportune moment. But it never seemed to come. The Time Lord was forever surrounded by humans - he couldn't take them all on. It was 11:30pm when the room finally seemed to thin out, and only a guard on the door and a nurse were left.

It was now or never.

He drew out his gun, slipped out of his hiding place and ran straight to door. He shot the guard immediately, burst through the door and shot the nurse too. He ran straight up to the Time Lord, lifted his gun to his head… But he suddenly heard a tiny gasp of stifled breath to his right and he looked to see a human man in a white coat with neat brown hair and glasses, cowering in the corner behind a machine.

Klax-lox raised his gun to the human, for a moment wondering whether to shoot or not. The human was clearly terrified, shouting things in that strange language they had. He wouldn't be much threat.

Suddenly Klax-lox felt a strange stinging sensation from his shoulder. He frowned, looked, and saw a strange mess of red spreading out.

It took all of three seconds for the pain to hit.

* * *

><p>Jack followed his gunshot by pouncing forward, hitting the alien over the head with the butt of his gun. The alien fell to the floor immediately, unconscious. Jack looked up, seeing Stein curled up in the corner shaking like a leaf.<p>

"Get the fuck out of here," Jack grated, pointing with his gun at the doorway. Stein ran immediately. Jack quickly checked the Doctor, but he seemed to be stable. Hadn't been touched.

He looked back down at the alien sprawled on the floor, and reached for his phone, speedialling Martha as several doctors flooded in to treat the wounded.

_"Jack?"_

"Martha, I've got our alien assassin. Might wanna get down here," he said, and hung up.

* * *

><p>They had tied the alien up and sat him in the corner of the detainment room for the Loch.<p>

After it had woken up Jack had been conversing with the alien in some kind of universal trade language for the past few minutes before he turned back to Martha, who'd been watching the exchange with wide eyes. She couldn't understand what Jack had said to the alien snake, but it was clear the alien wasn't complying.

"It's refusing to answer anything," Jack told her.

"I need to know what the poison is," Martha said desperately. "Just that, I don't care about anything else right now."

Jack nodded and turned back to the alien, saying something else in that language. Again, the alien didn't reply.

Jack turned back, clearly annoyed. "Give me five minutes alone with it. I can get it out."

She could guess what he was inferring. She just nodded, and left the room.

* * *

><p>Martha had waited patiently outside the room for twenty minutes, until Jack emerged.<p>

She snapped to attention immediately. "So?" she asked quickly.

"It's venom, its own venom," Jack told her.

"Okay, thanks," Martha said quickly, getting onto her pager.

"Turns out the Doctor was on their ship, he got caught out, was paralysed, put into an escape pod and ejected with the safeties off," Jack continued as she tapped away. "They assumed it would kill him, and our friend in there was sent to finish the job."

"Well, it's failed," Martha said simply. "The team's coming up to extract some of its venom to turn it into an antivenom. One we get it to the Doctor he'll start getting better."

"Quickly, I hope," Jack said. "I got the impression there's a few of these things."

"Didn't you ask?" Martha wondered.

"I will later," Jack responded. "You've got to pace it correctly. Leave the alien in there for a few days, let it heal a bit while we see if the antivenom works. If not, it's lying to us and I'll try again."

She nodded.

* * *

><p>The antivenom was administered the next day.<p>

It had taken all the skills of the Unit personnel working through the night to develop the antivenom, but they had eventually done it. As soon as it was in Martha allowed herself to calm down a bit - but not too much. The alien could have lied.

Then they waited. They took another blood sample the day after, to reveal that his blood seemed to be cleaning. The antivenom was apparently working.

So it came as quite a huge shock when the Doctor crashed at 3pm that afternoon.

Immediately the doctors had descended on him to save his life, administering defibrillation until his heart rate started again. Almost immediately it failed again, and with another shock he came back to life. Seconds later he failed again. It wasn't until the tenth resus attempt that Martha suddenly stepped forward, arms in the air.

"No, leave him."

Everyone, Jack and Donna included, turned to stare at her, aghast.

"Martha?" Jack asked.

"Ma'am?" a UNIT doctor said, puzzled.

"Don't attempt anymore resuscitation," Martha ordered, straightening up. "Leave him."

"Martha, what are you-"

"Don't argue with me, Jack!" Martha shouted, looking at him seriously. "Look, it might be a healing coma."

"Or he might be dying," Jack countered, his voice low.

"A healing what?" Donna yelped. "He's dying!"

"Shoot me if I'm wrong but I think he's trying to get into a healing coma and we're not helping," Martha said quickly. "There's lots of damage to his organs and it'd make sense he'd need to repair them."

"Martha…" Jack began in protest, but Martha cut him off.

"Just let me try!" she stressed. "We can't keep doing this!"

Everyone fell silent.

"Step away," Martha prompted the other doctors.

Seemingly reluctantly, they all took a step back. The heart rate monitor was knelling out the death tone as the Doctor lay there, unmoving. For a moment they all just stood there, staring, until Martha finally stepped forward with her stethoscope in hand. She carefully rested the chestpiece to the location of his left heart, and listened.

Quiet, almost silent and severely slow thuds came back to her from it. At the same time the heart rate monitor registered a small heartbeat, but the dead-tone was still droning out behind her. His skin was already starting to feel very cold.

She grinned.

"Got it?" Jack asked quickly.

She nodded. "Yep!" she enthused, and couldn't help giving the air a small punch. "Healing coma, definitely."

"Sure?" Jack asked quickly.

"Sure," she confirmed. "I've only read about it in his file but this has all the signs. Give him a few days and he should wake up."

"Should?" Donna prompted.

Martha looked at her. "I've never done this before. I've only read about the healing coma, but this has all the signs. Just leave him, stop all medications, get him unintubated and the NG tube out. Let him heal."

The group nodded.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Yay review reply! Review reply is fun. Shoot me all those burning questions.


	11. The Gift of Mime

**A/N: **Saga continuum... :D

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 11 - The Gift of Mime<span>

"I don't know _why _he's still here, sir!" Martha snapped at General Spitz in his office two days later, pointing directly at Stein. "He was in a restricted area beyond his permissions!"

"If I hadn't your alien would have been shot," Stein pointed out coolly, still smiling that emotionless smile.

"That's beside the point!" Martha exclaimed. "You weren't allowed in there!"

"I'm afraid we do have to consider the fact that Doctor Stein's presence was perhaps a contributor to…" Spitz began, but was quickly cut off.

"Sure, because _cowering in the corner_ really helped, didn't it!?" Martha shouted, furious.

"It was a plan to buy time," Stein insisted.

"Bollocks it was!"

Spitz quickly held up his hand. "Doctor Jones, there's no need for swearing. I'll gently remind you that the contract with the army is still in place."

"It shouldn't be, sir!" Martha responded, still shouting. "They hurt him, _we've _had to clean up the mess!"

"And not doing a very good job of it," Stein muttered.

Martha's jaw dropped. "Just… Just what are you suggesting!?" she stammered in disbelief.

"Well, it looks pretty dead at the moment."

"He's in a healing coma!"

Stein snorted with laughter. "Oh yes, the fabled healing coma."

"It's real!" Martha insisted, very much aware of how much like a whiny child she was beginning to sound but completely unable to control it.

"Funny how all those files you looked at have just disappeared, hmm?"

Martha's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, Doctor Stein, _funny."_

Stein clearly picked up on her insinuation. "Meaning?"

"I wouldn't put it past you."

Stein snorted a laugh again, looking at Spitz. "Now she's accusing me of theft!"

"Silence!" Spitz demanded, suddenly taking authority. "This has gone far enough. Doctor Jones, you will cease this vendetta with Doctor Stein. He is here on contract and-"

"But..."

"-And he will remain here. Security has already been trebled on the Doctor's room and I will give you my personal assurance that Stein will not step foot into the Doctor's room without your expressed permission. Stein?" he prompted.

Stein huffed a little. "I agree," he eventually reluctantly murmured.

"He's lying!" Martha found herself shouting. She had now gone beyond whiny child and had transgressed into a fully formed tantrum, and she was embracing it.

Stein made to speak, but Spitz quickly held up a hand to silence him, before gesturing for Stein to leave. Stein looked a little disappointed, but eventually left as ordered.

Martha looked at Spitz, who was by now quite riled.

"Doctor Jones, your conduct is unprofessional," Spitz told her firmly. "I'm sorry, but to avoid any more outside involvement Stein must be included."

"He'll hurt the Doctor!"

"He hasn't so far," Spitzx reminded her. "I don't like this either but if he is barred then the army will suspect foul play and send in their armed guard. We could potentially end up in a shootout. Tolerate him, Doctor Jones, for the greater good. You wouldn't be doing the Doctor any favours by having dozens of men lay down their lives for him and potentially ripping the British military establishment in two."

"Yessir," Martha said through gritted teeth.

"Dismissed."

* * *

><p>"That sounded like it went well," Jack muttered sarcastically as Martha stepped out of the door, her fists still clenched.<p>

Martha just sighed, loosening her fists and pushing back her hair. "What have you got?"

"Donna swore blind that his arm moved, but then she admitted it could've been because she sneezed and accidentally pushed it," Jack told her, deadpan. "Otherwise, nothing to report."

"I'm sick of this, Jack," Martha moaned.

"I know."

"He needs to be back how he used to be, or at least, strong enough to get to the Tardis, then he won't have all these stupid humans all over him."

"I hope you're not including yourself in that."

"Maybe I am."

"Martha," Jack said, suddenly stopping to grab her arms. "You're doing good. I swear."

Martha completely ignored him. "I don't even know if this is a healing coma. He could just be lying there dead and all I heard were vibrations and a malfunctioning monitor."

"Martha," Jack said again firmly. "If you lose your nerve then we get Stein for his primary care. So do your job."

Martha blanched at Jack's quite callous words. "Pardon?"

"I'm not letting that idiot anywhere near the Doctor whether he's alive or not, and you shouldn't be handing him the keys. Straighten up. You saved the world, Martha Jones, don't stop now."

* * *

><p>The Doctor woke up. It wasn't nice waking up these days.<p>

He opened his eyes, which took a fair amount of energy to do, and found himself lying in a semi-lit hospital room. But it wasn't one he'd woken up in before. This one was different. His vision was blurry and clouded and he was still in quite a lot of pain, but it wasn't as much as before.

_That's good. Isn't that good?_

Unless all of his limbs had been amputated…

Trying not to rationalise that into a real possibility he looked to his right with just his eyes, seeing Donna Noble curled up on a sofa under a blanket, fast asleep. So it was _her _voice he'd been hearing. He'd been drifting in and out of consciousness for a while before he'd finally managed to get into a healing coma, but someone had been talking to him. Had it been her?

Donna? He hasn't seen her since Christmas, when she'd refused to travel with him.

_How did she get here?_

Okay, so he had a lot of questions and he was really far too tired to start thinking of any answers. He tried to look down at himself as he was becoming increasingly paranoid that he'd been amputated, but quickly realised that his neck was in some kind of collar, preventing any movement. This led him to try and get up, but was quickly forced to stop when agony shot right through him and instinctively he cried out in pain.

Donna said something to his right, and he managed to look to her again. Clearly he'd just woken her up. But he was too tired to care. He needed to counter his energy deficit.

He tried to make a noise, but his voice was too tired to let out anything but a moan.

She moved to him, looking concerned. He forced his hand to clench slightly, and focused every bit of energy into lifting it to his mouth to signify food. It must have been the worst mime ever but she seemed to get it, gesturing to her own mouth in an eating motion. He managed a weak thumbs up, and she rushed out of the door.

* * *

><p>Donna ran down the corridor as fast as she could, wondering where exactly she was going to get any food at 2am.<p>

She turned a corner at full speed and nearly crashed into Martha coming the other way.

"What's going on?" Martha said quickly, wide-eyed.

"He's awake, he's hungry!" Donna gasped, and ran on.

She hit the staff room, and stopped.

_Sorry, greater good._

She dived inside - luckily it was empty. She went to the fridge and pulled out a pack of yoghurts, spotted some bananas on the counter, and quickly decided his meal.

She grabbed a bowl and a spoon, and proceeded to smash the bananas up into a messy pulp. She then mixed them with the yoghurt as well as she could, and ran with the bowl back out of the staff room.

She'd apologise to whoever's meal it was later.

When she got back to the room Martha was in there, talking softly to the Time Lord. Not that he seemed to be responding. Donna quickly went to the head of the bed, holding up the bowl to Martha.

"Is it okay to give him?" she asked.

"What is it?"

"Bananas and yoghurt."

Martha stared for a moment. "... That was mine!"

"Sorry," Donna said seriously, and indicated the bowl again. "Well?"

Martha nodded, obviously deciding not to get too annoyed about it. Donna took a seat on the bed beside the Doctor, who immediately opened his eyes again, just to slits. Donna indicated what she was holding. He tried to reach up to take the spoon, but it was clear he was far too weak and he could barely even lift his arm.

Martha took the bowl and spoon, and fed him as though he were a toddler. A very unenergetic toddler.

Donna wasn't sure she liked that.

She remember him as running around - up and down corridors whilst talking his mouth off. Not like this.

Never like this.

When it was all gone the Doctor just closed his eyes again, and slipped back out of consciousness.

* * *

><p>The Doctor woke up again. This time things were much clear.<p>

He opened his eyes and saw Donna again. Obviously she was the one on watch.

"Donna," he moaned.

Immediately she said something he couldn't understand.

"Donna, talk slower," he begged.

She just looked at him, clearly confused. She obviously couldn't understand _him_.

Now he was getting worried. Why wasn't she speaking the right language? Unless of course… he was speaking the wrong one.

"I can't understand you," he stressed, before realising that telling her he couldn't understand her in a language she didn't seem to understand was slightly unproductive. Regardless, she said something else, and reached over his head to something. Immediately there was a shrill beeping from next to him, which sent waves of pain cascading through his persistent and already quite severe headache.

* * *

><p>Donna gasped as the Doctor flinched quite horrendously at the loud alarm.<p>

"Sorry!" she said seriously, taking his hand carefully just as Jack rushed in, out of breath.

"Martha's coming, use the automatic de…"

Jack trailed off as he obviously realised what had happened. He dived to the Doctor immediately, hand on the thick bandages wrapped around his head as he gazed into the Time Lord's eyes.

"Hello," he said, and kissed the bridge of the Time Lord's nose. "How are you?"

"I think he'd feel a lot better with that alarm off," Donna admitted, a bit guilty, as it was obviously causing the Doctor quite a lot of pain.

"Oh, sorry," Jack muttered, and quickly got rid of the alarm. Immediately the Doctor relaxed, and his eyes refocused on Jack.

"Kinok," the Time Lord muttered. At least, that was what Donna managed to catch through a tangle of syllables which seemed impossible for her to even begin pronouncing.

"Now in English?" Jack wondered.

The Doctor stared at him blankly.

"He's been talking like that since he woke up," Donna said as Martha rushed into the room.

"What's happening, is he…" She stopped at the sight of him awake. "Doctor!"

"Jarbai!" the Doctor replied, looking at her with wide eyes.

Martha frowned. "What did he say?" she asked, looking at Donna.

"How would I know?" Donna asked seriously.

* * *

><p>Martha moved forward to the Doctor. She was obviously apprehensive.<p>

"Martha, there's an alien race about to invade your planet, you need to get to the Shadow Proclamation somehow and get…"

The Doctor trailed off, knowing there was absolutely no point in continuing.

* * *

><p>He seemed very agitated. Martha just took Jack's place, resting a hand on his cheek.<p>

"It's okay, calm down, you're safe," Martha assured him. He obviously had no idea what she was saying, but she was hoping the tone of her voice, like before, would comfort him.

"Jarbai," the Doctor said again quickly, tensed.

"No one's gonna hurt you, I promise. You're in Unit and you're safe," Martha continued in her dulcet tones. "You're out of that place. I'll get you some morphine to help with the pain and you can just relax and get better."

"You think he's traumatised?" Jack wondered, looking at the Doctor as he continued to stared fixatedly at Martha.

She nodded. "We don't know when he woke up in the Royal Hope, they could've been in the middle of the vivisection for all we know," she said as she moved to prepare some morphine. "That's going to traumatise anyone."

Donna frowned. "Even him?"

"He's been in perpetual state of agony for weeks, every time he's woken up he's been vulnerable, in pain and exploited. I'd be surprised if he isn't," Martha said, and went back to the Doctor. She carefully attached him to the morphine drip and gave him an immediate dose. "There you go, that'll help."

* * *

><p>The Doctor had guessed that Martha was obviously giving him some sort of painkiller, which he did appreciate, but he was sure she was doing it for all the wrong reasons. By the caring, loving expressions on their collective faces - even Donna was smiling gently at him in a strangely patronising way - he could tell that they were really making an effort to try and put him at his ease. That could only mean they thought he was stressed.<p>

Oh yeah, he was most _definitely _stressed.

"Martha, pleased stop giving me drugs and understand me…"

She said something back in that smooth tone of voice.

"Oh, what's the point," he moaned, and looked at Donna. "Come on, Donna. Think about it!"

* * *

><p>"He's not calming down," Donna noted, watching as he tried to struggle against Martha's comforting hold.<p>

"He must be terrified," Martha reasoned, gently cupping the Doctor's cheek again. "It's okay. You're okay. I promise you're okay. No more pain."

"Naqu, manai ei!" the Doctor said desperately. "Klayya!"

"Is that just gobbledegook?" Donna asked seriously, looking at Jack.

"It sounds structured," Jack reasoned. "It must be another language."

"Good point," Martha suddenly said, nodding. "Get the translation software, Jack."

Jack left quickly, leaving Martha still holding him caringly and Donna to ponder for a moment.

"I don't think he's traumatised," Donna finally said out loud.

"Of course he is," Martha responded, hugging the Time Lord gently. "Look at him, he's terrified."

Donna _did _look at him. He was now just sitting there reluctantly in Martha's hug, gazing straight at Donna. He clearly didn't want to be hugged right now from the grumpy expression on his face.

"I'd say he was more kinda annoyed," Donna said seriously.

"Trust me," Martha said still hugging him. "I've seen reactions like this all over from abduction and torture victims. He's scared and in new surroundings. He probably can't even remember what happened to him. He needs lots of TLC."

Donna watched as Martha gave him another shot of morphine. Over Martha's shoulder, the Doctor rolled his eyes clearly at Donna.

"Bet you a tenner he's annoyed," Donna said seriously.

Martha finally turned, considering her statement properly. "Why do you say that?"

"Cos he just rolled his eyes at me."

Martha paused, looking back at him. "... Oh," she eventually said as Jack came back, holding the translator. Martha took it, quickly programming it. She then held it up to the Doctor, and gestured for him to speak.

* * *

><p>The Doctor figured it was a translator, and he was already pretty sure it wasn't going to translate anything he said. He was also pretty sure they knew that too, but he spoke anyway.<p>

"Your planet is about to be invaded by giant snakes and you seriously need to start preparing."

Martha stared intently at the translation, then shook her head. She then said something to the others, and instead pulled out a pen and a notepad. She gave them to him.

He wrote, slightly jaggedly with his mending fingers but most definitely legibly:

**YOU ARE ALL GOING TO DIE.**

Then handed it back.

* * *

><p>"What is that?" Donna wondered, looking at the strange markings.<p>

"They look like the symbols on the Tardis monitor," Martha mused.

"He must be speaking Gallifreyan, then," Jack reasoned.

"What?" Donna asked.

"Gallifrey, his home planet. Gallifreyan is his native tongue."

"Oh yeah. But it's gone, isn't it?" Donna said, suddenly hit with a flashback from something the Doctor had said to the giant spider at Christmas.

Jack nodded.

"So there's no one who can speak his language," Donna concluded.

Jack shook his head.

"That's so sad," she said quietly, gazing at the Doctor who was still trying to talk to them. He was still quite desperate. "Hold on," Donna suddenly said, having a bullet of an idea.

* * *

><p>The Doctor couldn't help but stare at Donna as she suddenly stepped forward, and began to make a series of strange gestures. She was miming.<p>

_You._

_Speak._

_Me._

"You speak me?" he said out loud, his brow furrowed. "You want me to speak to you? I can't, by the way."

Not, not speak.

_Mime._

She wanted him to mime.

"I can't mime that you're about to be invaded," he said seriously.

She continued to urge him to mime.

"I can't mime it! This isn't a miming thing!"

_Mime._

"Oh for… okay," he said, and pointed at the three of them. "Your." He gestured around the room. "Planet." He indicated a gun. "Dead." He pointed at them. "You." He gestured looking for something. "Find." He gestured as if opening a scripture. "Proclamation."

One-handed lethargic charades wasn't fun.

* * *

><p>All three humans watched in wrapped silence as the Doctor did his mime. When it was finished, Martha and Jack both looked at Donna, who nodded assertively.<p>

"He wants to turn off the hospital radio and read a book," she concluded.

Martha and Jack both looked at each other.

"You sure?" Jack asked.

"Positive," she said.

"There isn't a hospital radio," Martha said seriously.

"... Oh," Donna finally said, her brow furrowed. "Well, it was either that or he wants the room redecorated."

"This isn't working," Martha moaned, head in her hands. "Let's just get him something to eat and then I'll get him scanned."


	12. Banoffee Pie

**A/N: **I love banoffee pie. I need more of it in my life.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 12 - Banoffee Pie<span>

The Doctor's consciousness was sporadic over the next few days, but the times he _was _awake he seemed perfectly coherent. It surprised Martha, who after consulting the MRI scans of his head was convinced he should have been in a coma.

"The trauma to the left side of his head is massive," she told Jack and Donna in the Doctor's room two days later. "I don't even know how he's so alert."

"Time Lord," Jack reasoned.

"It's ridiculous," Martha insisted. "No living thing should be able to tolerate that sort of head trauma and wake up like everything's perfectly fine. But apart from the dyspraxia and obvious language difficulties, he's completely normal."

"Attitude and everything," Donna mused, looking at the Doctor.

Martha followed her gaze to the Doctor, who was looking at them with those familiar brown eyes with an intense look, like he was getting annoyed at them ignoring him. She immediately felt a little guilty, and held up the MRI of his own head to him.

He stared for a moment, before moaning slightly and raising a careful hand to his head. It was still heavily bandaged. Martha had managed to take off his neck collar as it seemed to have healed in the coma, and reduced the size of his casts. His broken bones were well on the way to healing, but his head had only just been allowed to start. She was under no illusions. It might take a while until they heard him speak English again.

"Ei to'af wiia'alok," he muttered, looking pained.

"I think he said it hurts," Donna muttered.

* * *

><p>The Doctor's head <em>really <em>hurt, and now he knew why. He could feel that it had been bandaged heavily - the only logical deduction being that he must have had some sort of brain surgery. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad that he'd had a bunch of humans rooting around inside his skull - but they hadn't seemed to have done anything too drastic and it must have been Martha who'd assisted with the surgery. He trusted her.

Thanks to the morphine, the other parts of his body seemed to be at a manageable pain rate. His neck seemed to be fine to move now and his fingers were healed too. He just wanted to get up.

"Get me up," he said to the three, trying to sit up.

They moved to him immediately, instinctively getting what he wanted to do. As though it had already been rehearsed, Martha fetched a wheelchair as Donna got him a dressing gown and Jack moved to do the supporting work. Donna slipped his healthy arm into the gown and left the other side draping over the shoulder of his injured arm, and did it up around his stomach to keep it in place. With Jack's help he managed to turn so his legs were over the side of the bed, and, gripping onto Jack as though his life depended on it, he moved to stand up.

_I haven't stood up for weeks._

The realisation hit him and immediately his left leg gave way at the pure shock of what he'd just thought. Luckily Jack was there to keep him upright until his left leg decided it was okay to be doing this, and obediently took his weight.

With Jack's continued help he shuffled to the wheelchair, and finally dropped down into it, exhausted.

* * *

><p>"Where are we going?" Jack finally said, taking the handles of the wheelchair.<p>

Donna looked at the Doctor. "Hungry?" she asked, making the gesture for food.

He nodded.

"Café it is," Donna concluded.

* * *

><p>As they made their way to the café they passed a lot of UNIT members, all of whom saw the Doctor and gave him a cheery greeting and a wave. Jack watched, bemused as he waved back, clearly a bit confused and unused to such excessive attention.<p>

When they reached the café it was 1pm, so it was filled with UNIT members, patients and some visitors. The moment the group entered everyone stopped to look at them, aiming smiles and waves in their direction. Some came up to wish the Doctor well, to which he just nodded and waved some more, all the while giving the group he was with pleading looks to make the attention stop. They couldn't do anything about it, but after the initial ruckus everyone returned to their seats and resumed their conversations.

Things almost felt normal as the four sat at a table in the café, and Donna was nominated to go and get the drinks.

"What does everyone want?" she asked.

"Coffee, please," Jack said.

"Tea and some chocolate cake," Martha told her.

They all looked expectantly at the Doctor who was staring out of the window, by instinct waiting for him to reply. As soon as he looked back at them with a blank look, they all simultaneously realised their mistake.

"Oh, I'll figure him out," Donna said, and left to the counter.

Martha took the Doctor's hand. "Okay?" she asked, giving the sign for okay to him. He nodded. "Hurting?" she asked, making the appropriate gesture. He shook his head.

Martha looked back at Jack, who was just gazing at the Doctor. "So how long until he's okay d'you reckon?" Jack asked.

"There's no way of telling," Martha said. "He's a fast healer, but the trauma to his head would have killed a human… Well, you know. I get the feeling it's going to be a while either way."

Suddenly there was a crash from across the room and everyone looked up at an erupting argument, tea and coffee all over the floor.

"Just _who _do you think you are!?" yelled Donna Noble at a random person, her shirt covered in cake. "I'm standing _right here _I mean, are you _blind!?"_

"I'll get that," Jack said quickly, getting up to go over to defuse the situation.

Martha looked back at the Doctor, who was laughing.

"Tosho Klayya," he said, grinning and pointing at Donna.

She nodded with a return smile, despite not understanding what it meant. But she could have a good guess. They both watched as Jack interrupted the increasingly heated debate about rights of way.

Suddenly a tall dark figure stepped in the way of their view.

"Good afternoon," came a deep voice, and both Martha and the Doctor looked up to meet the smiling face of Doctor Stein.

Martha gritted her teeth, glancing at the Doctor who was looking between her and Stein. His hand flexed in her grip, which she only just realised she'd tightened considerably at the sight of Stein. She didn't relent it.

"Afternoon," she responded, her jaw tightened.

"How is… _he?"_ Stein asked, gazing at the Doctor.

_"He's_ fine."

"... Does _he _talk?"

"Yes," Martha replied. She noticed how Stein seemed to just be staring at the Doctor.

"Jarbai, ko'af'iio'e," the Doctor muttered, glancing between her and Stein. She could tell that even without the words to express it he was feeling the tension.

She squeezed his hand, and looked back at Stein. "Sorry, did you want anything, Doctor Stein?" she asked thinly.

"I just came to see the fabled Doctor, awake at last," Stein insisted. "Perhaps when he stops speaking alien we can have a proper conversation."

"He's speaking his native tongue because he has brain damage," Martha insisted. "Brain damage not treated properly until he came here. Normally he can speak every language in the universe."

"Hmm," was all Stein said, clearly not caring. "No, I think the Doctor and I are going to get very well acquainted soon enough," he said, moving around to the Doctor's side, coming from behind. He took one of the Time Lord's shoulders in each hand. Martha stood up immediately like a Jack-in-a-Box, but Stein completely ignored her, leaning to the Doctor to whisper something in his ear. Then, as quickly as he'd arrived, he was gone.

Martha looked at the Doctor. "What did he say? Repeat it to me," she said quickly, making a gesture.

"N'ei'lei'o manai," the Doctor told her, looking confused.

She considered going after Stein, but quickly decided not to, dropping back down into her seat. "Sorry," she muttered to the Doctor. Somehow it didn't even matter that he didn't understand. Her apology was so deep and heavy and meant with such broadness that saying that one word out loud didn't cover everything she felt.

For a moment, there was only silence until she looked back at him. He looked so strange and distant, just staring at her, reading her. Strange and distant, yes, but so weirdly familiar at the same time. It was so easy to think that just because he couldn't communicate and talk his head off like he used to that somehow he wasn't the same person.

He'd changed. Of course he'd changed. The Year That Never Was was still a very potent memory. Time had passed, but not enough by her standards. She had heard snippets of what had happened to the people on the Valiant for the duration of that year, and didn't want to hear anymore. And as the Master's arch nemesis...

_God, it sounds like some superhero movie._

As the Master's arch nemesis she could only dread to think what particular treatment he'd received. But there was one thing she hadn't told Jack and Donna. The scans revealed more than his fresh wounds. The Doctor would have already figured that out.

His silence seemed to speak a thousand words. When he could talk he would be talking just for the sake of talking; talking at everyone so fast that they didn't have time to stop and wonder about _him_. Maybe he _was _traumatised. Just so well hidden that no one could see.

She had to consider it. With everything that had happened, with the Year, with the treatment in the hands of the army doctors - any normal person would be chewing rubber wallpaper by now. He could be damaged - when he had told her about the Time War with tears in his eyes she could really see the human in him then. But maybe he wasn't traumatised. Maybe he was too alien. Maybe she just desperately _wanted _him to be, just so he could conform to the human mould. She'd been a lot more protective of him since he'd crashed outside Downing Street.

_But maybe that's normal?_

For once, he was in her world. And her world was dangerous to him. Maybe he _did _need protecting.

"Look," she began, taking his hand in both of hers, gazing into his eyes. "I know you can't understand me but I'm really glad you're here."

"E'naqu'eon'mifa," was all he said, offering a weak smile.

She nodded, just as Donna and Jack returned.

"Bloody idiot!" were Donna's first words as she put a tray of tea and coffee in the centre of the table. "Just walked right into me!"

"Donna, he said sorry!" Jack insisted.

"It's not like I bloody brought clothes with me!" she harrumphed. "I've been wearing lost property for days! And you _don't _wanna know about the state of my…"

"No, we don't," Martha interrupted smoothly, laughing.

"Then why don't you go shopping!" Jack suggested.

"Oh, bloody great idea, shall I start at the TK Maxx beside the hospital shop?" she asked insincerely.

"They'll fly you Glasgow," Martha told her patiently.

"And you've got enough money," Jack added.

There was suddenly a loud throat clearance from the Doctor, who was staring intently at the tray of refreshments. It quickly brought Donna to her senses.

"Oh, sorry," she said, giving him a polystyrene cup with tea in it and a slice of banoffee pie on a plate with a tiny plastic spoon. "There you go."

* * *

><p>The Doctor was well aware they were now all staring at him as he reached forward to pick up the spoon with his good hand. He struggled to coordinate his movement, his hand seemingly wanting to go in the opposite direction to his intentions. Jack reached forward, obviously to help, but the Doctor quickly stopped him.<p>

"I can do it," he said without thinking, and tried again. He managed to grip the spoon in his fist like a child learning to use cutlery, and stabbed it into the pie. The plastic spoon immediately snapped in two with the force.

He looked back up at the others, holding half the spoon. For a moment they conferred, then Martha held a finger in the air to indicate he should wait, quickly running off.

The Doctor sighed, dropping the half-spoon and putting his head in his hand. "This is bad," he moaned.

He felt Jack rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder, before saying something softly to him.

"You just tried to reassure me, didn't you," the Doctor supposed. "This is bad, Jack. I shouldn't be this hurt."

* * *

><p>The Doctor's sentences were increasing in length, which made them even harder to understand, but he was clearly agitated.<p>

"It's okay," Jack assured him. "It's okay to be sick."

"Ei'i'o shil," the Doctor told them. "Miho'lei'ei saral eon'wrea? Kryx'af g'eh eon. Miho'i'ei saral? Ei'cha alok, Rolas."

It was clear it was a series of questions which he wasn't looking for the answer to.

"He's not happy," Donna muttered.

Jack paused for a moment, gazing at the dejected Time Lord. "Maybe we should teach him some words."

"Good idea," Donna said, and drew the Doctor's attention. "Hello," she said, waving at him.

Jack snorted at the Time Lord's befuddled expression. "Repeat," he said, gesturing to the Time Lord before pointing at Donna.

"Hello," Donna prompted, waving.

The Doctor raised his hand with a furrowed brow. "Hailo," he mimicked, waving.

"Hello!" Donna said again positively.

"Hello," he repeated with a strange, heavy accent that sounded like a strange combination of Swedish, Australian and something else unidentifiable.

"That's it," Donna said, thumbs-up. She gestured eating next. "Eat."

"Eht… eat."

"Drink."

"Jink."

"No," Donna said, shaking her head. "Drink. Dr-ink."

"Dr-ink. Drienk."

"Good enough," Jack said.

"What's happening?" Martha asked as she returned.

"We're teaching him some words," Jack told her.

"Well go easy," Martha said, handing the Doctor a big metal spoon.

Donna looked at the Doctor, distracting him from his pie. "Say hello to Martha?"

He looked confused for a moment, but eventually got what she meant and raised his hand to Martha. "Hailo," he said with that thick accent, frowning. He clearly knew what he said had been wrong.

"Hello," Donna repeated patiently.

"... Hello."

Martha smiled back at him and returned the wave. "Hello, Doctor."

"Oh, there's a good one," Donna said. She pointed at him. "Doctor."

"Doh-tar," he attempted to repeat. "Dodtar. Doiktor. Doiktar."

"Good. How about… Donna?"

* * *

><p>This was even more embarrassing that not being able to eat properly. Usually he could pick up a language extremely quickly, but not now. His brain was so compromised it was taking ages to learn anything Donna was teaching him. He'd already forgotten half the words. But it was probably a good thing that she was trying to teach him.<p>

She pointed at herself, and said another word. Her name? He attempted to repeat it, but the syllables didn't seem to come out right. English really did have strange mouth movements that weren't present in Gallifreyan, and much simpler sounds. He tried again, then she said it again, until he got somewhere close.

* * *

><p>"Dohna," the Doctor said, obviously a bit frustrated.<p>

"That's close enough," Donna said, giving him a thumbs up.

"Jack," Jack tried next, pointing at himself.

"... Jaoka. Jaike."

"That'll do, I'm happy with that," Jack said, shrugging, nonchalant.

"Martha," Martha tried next.

"Morta…"

"Martha."

"Maifa. Mafa."

"Martha," she repeated patiently.

It was clear he was getting frustrated again. "Mafa. Mafa."

Martha nodded, her thumbs up. "It's as good as we'll get," she said, smiling.

"Dohna, Jaike, Mafa," the Doctor repeated, looking at each of them in turn.

"You've got it!" Martha enthused, smiling and nodding at him.

* * *

><p>The Doctor sighed, and gripped his spoon. Great. All he had to do now was ask them how to say 'impending genocide' and everything would be fantastic.<p>

He stabbed the spoon into the banoffee pie. It made a loud clang, but at least it didn't break. Highly aware they were all staring at him, he methodically and with the highest concentration he could manage, sliced into the pie and finally got a bit in his mouth. Well, near enough.

* * *

><p>After lunch was done and his mess was cleaned up they took him back to his room through the obligatory plethora of UNIT members waving at him. As soon as they reached it he quickly stopped the wheelchair with his hand. Martha immediately knelt in front of him, clearly concerned.<p>

"Toilet," he said, pointing at the sign.

They seemed to get it. Jack suddenly took control, and the Doctor suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

"No… nurse!" the Doctor insisted. "I want a nurse!"

* * *

><p>The Doctor had suddenly got very tense. Three guesses why.<p>

"Geez, I ain't gonna hold it for you," Jack insisted, pulling the door closed behind them. "Unless you want me to. Perfectly happy to. I mean, you're not too good with your hands. Might be safer - y'know, hit the target."

The Doctor shot him a look that could burn. Obviously he'd easily figured out what Jack was saying.

Jack just grinned, pulling down the seat and helping the Time Lord transfer from the wheelchair to the seat. There was a brief pause. "C'mon then, or have I gotta pull down your pants too?"

"Koshka'qi," the Doctor grated. Jack knew what that meant.

_Stop it._

Jack grinned some more. "Okay, I'm turning around," he said, and diligently turned away. Silence ensued, apart from some shuffling.

Seconds passed.

"I don't hear much peeing action going on," Jack finally said, breaking the silence. The Doctor didn't reply. "You're not a nervous pee-er, are you? That'd be a twist. Though I've literally never heard you say you need a toilet break."

"Jaike!" the Doctor snapped behind him.

Jack's eyes widened. "Hey, you said my name!" he realised, and instinctively nearly turned around. He managed to stop himself mid-step, and made a casual position readjustment out of it.

Then the silence returned.

Jack wasn't all that comfortable with the silence of the Doctor. He could admit to himself that he was talking to fill in the Doctor's silences. He associated the Doctor with noise, and now there was none. Even on the Valiant, the Doctor had talked. Albeit, briefly, but that had been very different to this.

Jack just wasn't comfortable with his silence.

"... Would it help if I talked about waterfalls?"

"Jaike!"

"Okay, sorry…"

* * *

><p>Martha and Donna waited outside patiently. Jack seemed to be doing a lot of talking.<p>

Two minutes passed. Jack was still talking.

"Is he all right in there?" Martha suddenly asked, knocking lightly on the door.

"I think he's nervous," Jack replied through the door.

"Well I would be too if I was trying to wee and there was someone standing in front of me talking," Donna said seriously, rolling her eyes.

"Not to mention the two people listening outside the door," Martha added seriously. "Jack, out. Leave him alone."

Moments later the door opened and Jack exited, closing the door behind him.

They waited. Finally the appropriate sound came out the door.

Suddenly the Doctor cried out in pain.

"Doctor!" Martha shouted, diving for the door… But she suddenly stopped.

He cried out again.

"Martha?" Donna asked anxiously. Why was Martha just standing there?

"... Has he been to the toilet since he woke up?" Martha asked them quickly.

"What?" Donna asked, stunned. "Help him!" She moved to the door, but Martha prevented her.

"They took his catheter out a couple of days ago."

The Doctor evoked another gasp of pain and a string of alien words came pouring out behind the door.

"Oh," Jack realised, wincing.

"So?" Donna asked seriously, quite annoyed now.

"So it's going to _hurt."_

"... Oh," Donna realised dimly. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Oh god, that's so wrong," she ended up saying.

"Jaike!" the Doctor suddenly called out. "Saral!"

Jack shot a look to the others, and went back inside the toilet.

"Oh geez," came Jack's voice. "Look, just relax…"

"Qi'af plak! Jaike, ei'riiala y'eon'baina ei'alok'eon!"

"Let me help…"

"Jhu qe'_plak!"_

"I get it, it hurts, look, just finish what you're doing… Just piss! You know! _Whoosh!"_

Donna got the distinct impression that he was making some sort of inappropriate gesture.

"N'lei'eon lera holah'ei'jert!?" the Doctor shrieked.

"Wee! Urinate! Just get it out."

"Ei'anim'eon!"

"Y'know," Donna mused. "I think I'm getting what he's saying now."

_"Graxtchalekatt!" _the Doctor screamed.

"I think he just swore," Martha muttered.

Donna looked at her, surprised. "You're getting it too?"

Suddenly it went quiet, before there came the sounding of gasping.

"Shit!" Jack swore.

"Jack?" Martha asked quickly, her eyes wide.

"Martha, get in here!"

Without hesitation Martha dived through the door and slammed it shut behind her, leaving Donna alone in the room, confused.

"What's happening?" she shouted through the door.

"Get him to the bed," Martha suddenly said, and Donna nearly got the door slammed in her face as Jack came back out again, carrying the Doctor who was gasping for air, his hand clutched to the left side of his chest and his face creased in pain. "Doctor!"

Jack quickly got him to the bed, adjusting the head as Martha retrieved the oxygen mask. The Doctor took it quickly, breathing in deeply.

"Keep breathing, calmly and evenly," Martha said to the Time Lord, not that he could understand her but he was doing it anyway.

"What's going on!?" Donna yelled, thoroughly annoyed now.

"He's having a heart attack," Martha answered, pulling out her stethoscope.

"What!?"

Martha ignored her again, but suddenly Donna was fine with that. The Doctor was _having a heart attack. _Donna felt compelled to step back and just let her do her job as Martha kept a hand on the Doctor's shoulder, breathing in sync with him for a few moments before his brow unfurrowed and he opened his eyes.

Martha quickly checked his right heart with her stethoscope, then moved it across to his left heart. She gave him a thumbs up and he nodded, still taking deep, measured breaths from the mask.

"We're okay, it's beating again," Martha said, squeezing the Doctor's shoulder reassuringly.

"What caused it?" Jack asked.

Martha mused for a moment. "The poison."

"He's still poisoned?" Donna asked, confused.

"No, the poison's out of his system. It must have done more damage to his left heart than we thought and the stress and pain might've caused it to spasm and stop. I need to rescan and check it's not a degradation."

"Oh god," Donna muttered.

"We'll sort this," Martha assured her. "In the meantime, no more excursions. He rests for a few days until we figure this out."


	13. Fool's Mate

**A/N:** About the translations - I warn you, this is actually quite a big thing so will probably be very long!

I've been doing fanfic for a very long time and the thing that keeps me utterly glued to Doctor Who is the limitless character exploration. I'm the kind of author that loves to completely strip down the characters to get right into the very essence of them so I know them inside-out. I love to test them. So when I began this story I wanted to explore an area of the Doctor that I'd never been before. Language, and specifically the character of the Doctor WITH language, is something I've never fully explored and I wanted to go on that journey. As a character he loves words, he lies, deflects and throws them out everywhere; "you talk all the time, but you don't say anything" and without them I think he would probably become a different person. As I write I'm waiting to see what emerges from him as he gets increasingly alienated from the people he's talked so easily with before. I don't know what he's going to go through but I'll happily keep pressing those buttons to see what he does.

I did think long and hard about giving translations for what the Doctor says and eventually decided against it. As I reasoned, nobody can understand a language they have no grasp of, and I find it creatively interesting that should also apply to a reader to see what you (and I) think of him in this state. This is just something new to me that I want to be able to explore with all of you lovely people, without us being deceived by what comes out his mouth...! That's why I'm not translating.

Also, partially, it's a test of writing effective prose and PoV as they're two squelchy subjects with me and I want to improve them so I know I can write a story that isn't stilted just because the main character can't speak. It's also helping me to explore the other characters - everyone's reactions have surprised me and now I know a bit more about what makes them tick, which for me is the first reason of why I love to write, to find those little character nuances that compels a character to react in a certain way.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 13 - Fool's Mate<span>

"Who are the cards from?" the Doctor asked, pointing around the room at the multitudes of presents he seemed to have accumulated.

Donna immediately picked up one of the cards and gave it to him. She said something, smiled, and then suddenly dropped her face in a mock frown, miming holding a gun and having a slanted beret on her head in a comical and melodramatic interpretation of marching. She even gave a bit of swagger in her mock marching with her shoulders propelling back and forth. He laughed, and she laughed with him. He got it. They were all from UNIT soldiers.

Donna was brilliant. But the Doctor had known that already.

For two days the Doctor had been confined by Martha to bed - the only excursions he was allowed were to the toilet and scans, despite his best efforts. But Donna had been the one that had stayed with him. He also got the distinct impression that she was one that had stayed with him even when he was comatose. Martha was busy trying to figure out ways to cure him, and usually came by a few times a day to poke him with medical devices and perform an assortment of tests. Jack seemed to be helping Martha with her work and monitoring her health as she was quite clearly stressed. But he visited frequently, bringing food and games. The man who seemed to be a UNIT General visited once a day to check on him, and occasionally the sinister doctor who had confronted them in the cafe hovered outside the door; quickly moving off before Donna could scream at him.

Donna however, was amazing. Even though they weren't speaking the same language to each other she somehow had an extraordinary ability to maintain a conversation with him, and never seemed to run out of topics. He adored her for that. Whilst Martha seemed to be in a state of constant concern and Jack clearly forcing himself to be normal to hide some dark feelings, Donna hadn't even seemed to notice any that any problem existed. In fact, since they'd been together so often they were beginning to get quite good at reading each other.

He appreciated that. Everyone else seemed to be treading eggshells around him and turning every tiny sentence into a ten minute game of charades, which only helped to emphasise very clearly that he was completely alien to them. Without Donna, he would be going mad. He was sure of it.

It was 10am and they'd already been chatting for an hour when Donna's phone suddenly rang. She pulled it out of her pocket, checked the screen, then hung up and put it back. She'd been doing that a lot lately.

"Who are you avoiding?" the Doctor asked, pointing at her phone.

Donna looked a little embarrassed and said a single word answer.

"What?" he asked.

She thought for a moment, then did a mime of a woman in labour, melodramatic as always.

_Mum._

"Why?" he asked,

She obviously guessed what he'd said (she was getting good at that) and made her next mime, her hand opening a closing like a mouth.

_Yap, yap, yap._

* * *

><p>"Holah'lo," the Doctor said, making a mime of a phone at his ear.<p>

_Call her._

Donna sighed. "I don't want to, it's just nice to get away from it all."

"Holah'lo," he repeated.

_Call her._

Donna sighed again. "Should I?"

"Fia."

_Yes._

Donna rolled her eyes at him. "When did you turn into a psychiatrist?" she joked, and after a moment's consideration, rang her mum.

Two rings.

_"Hello?"_

"Hi, Mum."

_"Donna! Where have you been? I've been calling you!"_

"Sorry, been busy!" was all Donna could think to reply.

_"We got a letter through the door, it was for you, I opened it and it was a £10,000 tax rebate!"_

"Oh wow!" Donna enthused, rolling her eyes at the Doctor. He grinned. "Seriously?"

_"I didn't think you could get that much!"_

"Me either! That's amazing!"

_"Do you mind if I take your rent for the month?"_

"Oh, sure, you know where my bank details are. And you can take a bit extra if you want, get something nice for you and granddad."

_"Oh, really? I will, thank you! When are you home?"_

Donna looked at the Doctor again. "Dunno," she said. "We're in Peru now, Jack decided to make it a round the world trip."

_"Well you have fun, and get lots of pictures," _her mum responded.

"I will, better go, see you soon!"

_"Bye!"_

Donna hung up, and immediately pulled a face. "God, I've gotta find souvenirs from Peru now. What the hell do you get from Peru? And photos!" she stressed, slipping the phone back in her pocket. For a moment there was a brief silence as she gazed at the Doctor, lying there as he had been for a couple of days. "All right, enough's enough," she said getting up.

"Je'af'eon lei?" the Doctor asked as she moved to retrieve the wheelchair.

"We're going out," Donna said. "It's not fair keeping you cooped up like this. It's a nice day."

The Doctor seemed to immediately get what she was doing. "Fia," he said with a smile, sitting up.

She parked the wheelchair, before lowering the side rail and supporting him. He was still very bad on his feet, but a combination of her strength and his own willpower got him from the bed to the wheelchair. She copied what Martha had done days previously, detaching him from the unnecessary equipment and keeping the drugs, which she hung up on the wheelchair. She then got the blanket from the bed and covered him.

"Okay?" she asked.

He looked a little pained, but nodded. "Kinok," he said sincerely.

"You're welcome," she responded almost automatically, and pushed him out the door.

* * *

><p>Donna had taken the Doctor to the garden. Although the sun was shining it was slightly chilly, so she made sure he was warm by nicking some random person's coat from a rack and wrapping it around him.<p>

As soon as they were out he pointed across the garden. She followed his finger, and realised what he was pointing out. An outdoor chessboard.

"Are you kidding?" she asked seriously. "I'm useless at chess."

He maintained his pointing, insisting with repeated jerks of his arm. She finally sighed, rolling her eyes and pushing him towards it. All right. He _was _ill. He had the right.

They arrived at the chessboard and she parked him on one side, before taking the other.

"All right," she said boldly. "White goes first!"

She moved a pawn. He moved a pawn. She moved another pawn. He moved a queen. She was about to move, but then realised dimly that he'd already checkmated her.

"Bloody hell," she moaned, looking at his grinning face. "Don't look at me like that! I mean, you have brain damage and you just beat me in two moves! That's really bad."

He maintained his grin, and then reached forward to reset the board. But before they could begin again he took her queen, lifted it over her pawns and placed it in the centre of the board.

Donna stared. "I'm no expert, but I don't think that's a move."

* * *

><p>She had said something, but the Doctor ignored her. He pushed all the other pieces to the side of the board except for his king and his pawns, and then pushed his pawns to her queen. He arranged them in a circle around her queen, closed them in, and finally picked up his king and hit Donna's queen with it so hard it went flying into the grass.<p>

He looked up at her, willing for her to understand. She was the queen. The pawns were the Kryx. The king was the Kryx's mothership, whacking her and her planet dead.

"C'mon, Donna, you're going to die, just _please _understand me."

* * *

><p>"You've lost it," Donna said seriously, staring at the queen in the dirt before looking back at him. He looked desperate. As desperate as he'd been when he'd first woken up.<p>

"... Are you trying to tell me something?" she asked, frowning as things began to slot together in her head…

"Donna!" suddenly came a voice from across the garden, and Donna was abruptly torn out of her thought trail to see Martha striding towards them purposefully. "What are you _doing!? _He shouldn't be up!"

Donna could admit, she was getting a little bit annoyed of Martha's role as overly-protective mother. "You can't keep him cooped up," she said, gesturing at the man in question. "He's not a kid."

"He is right now!" Martha snapped. "He can't even feed himself! What if he collapsed out here!?"

"I was hopingI might find some sorta medical person around here," Donna responded, slightly sarcastically.

"Don't get like that with me!" Martha snapped.

The Doctor said something, but the two completely ignored him.

"This is _completely _irresponsible!" Martha yelled.

"What's wrong with him just wanting to go _out?" _Donna wanted to know. "He's been stuck inside buildings for weeks, he needed some fresh air!"

"The room has a _window!"_

The Doctor said something again, slightly louder, but again they both ignored him.

"Not quite the same thing, is it!?" Donna yelled, annoyed.

"I don't care, he's not allowed out!"

"What is he, your patient or your prisoner!?"

"I need to look after him, just let me _do my job!"_

"Mafa!"the Doctor shouted.

"Be quiet!" Martha shouted at him, barely even acknowledging that it was him she was talking to before turning back to resume the argument...

_"Mafa!" _the Doctor shouted, sweeping an arm over the chessboard to send the pieces flying before slamming his fist on the table so hard Donna felt the vibrations through the ground and into her feet.

* * *

><p>That caught their attention.<p>

"Stop arguing!" the Doctor demanded, angry as they looked at him, astonished at his show of unusual violence. "You've got bigger problems than me!"

After the shock had obviously disapparated, Donna made as if to continue.

"Stop!" he shouted again, cutting her off. "You need to-"

Martha suddenly held up what she was holding to his face, interrupting him. It took him a moment to process, but then realised. They were his scans.

* * *

><p>The Doctor's face immediately subdued, taking the scans and examining them for himself. Suddenly it was so very quiet.<p>

"What is that?" Donna asked quietly, fearing the worst.

"His scans," Martha supplied as the Doctor went through the images. "His internal organs are degrading and his brain's swelling again. He'll start deteriorating very soon."

"... Oh god," Donna croaked.

"He can't be up," Martha muttered. "He needs to rest."

Donna nodded. "I'll get him back right now."

"You'd better," Martha grated, turned and left.

* * *

><p>Jack had been with Martha when she'd finished analysing the Doctor's scans.<p>

He would never have guessed it from the Doctor's outward appearance. He seemed jovial and sharp; the severe nature of what was happening internally were only painfully apparent with the images.

Martha was just going off to tell the Doctor what she'd found, but Jack had decided he'd pay their resident alien snake a visit. It had been a while.

He stormed into the holding cell and slammed the door behind him so hard that the entire wall shook. He walked straight up to the alien and pointed an accusatory finger.

"Do you know what you've done!?" he yelled in the universal trade language, absolutely infuriated.

The alien was still lying on the table, its arms and legs strapped down with the bruises from their previous encounter slightly dulled. It didn't answer.

"Your damn poison is _still _hurting him!"

There was another silence, until the alien suddenly spoke. "... Is the Time Lord dead?" it hissed.

Jack's jaw tensed. "No, he isn't, and he won't!"

The alien remained silent, just staring at the ceiling.

Jack stepped forward another pace. "Did you give him anything else? Do something we can't detect?"

No answer.

"Tell me!" Jack yelled.

No answer.

Jack punched it, straight in the gut. The alien flinched, but otherwise didn't react.

Jack fumed at the lack of reaction, leaning to the alien so he was inches from its face. "If he dies I'll make sure your death is as _slow _and _painful _as possible," he grated dangerously.

The alien looked at him. There was a slight pang of fear in its eyes. Good. "I didn't do anything else," it hissed.

"You're lying!" Jack shouted, punching it again. This time it squeaked with the impact. "Tell me what you did!"

The alien regained its composure before looking away. "Tell me when the Time Lord dies."

Jack's blood boiled and instinctively he punched again, this time right in its face. The alien was knocked out immediately, blood running from its nose.

Jack took a few deep breaths, rolled back his shoulders, and walked out, locking the door behind him.


	14. Everyone's a Whimmer

**A/N: **The Doctor's head is a _really _fun place to go... :D

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 14 - Everyone's a Whimmer<span>

Jack was sat in the Doctor's room five hours later, staring at the sleeping Time Lord.

It had been amazing how quickly he'd deteriorated. One moment he'd been animated and clearly a bit annoyed, the next he'd lost energy, fallen unconscious, and an hour after that he had stopped breathing altogether. Now he was breathing again, and sleeping.

Jack hadn't moved for four hours. He still had a bit of blood on his shirt from where he'd punched the alien but he didn't care. He had to stay. Before the Doctor had crashed again Jack had arranged a helicopter to take Donna to Glasgow, and though she hadn't wanted to leave, she'd eventually relented and gone. So Jack had taken it upon himself to stay in her place to sit with him.

They'd realised this somehow, someway and somewhen, he'd been poisoned again. Though he'd been given the antivenin and he was a lot better than he had been and he would get better, it still spelt bad news. Because with that alien held in that room, there was no way it could have readministered it. There was another one somewhere. That meant they weren't going to give up, they were just going to keep trying to kill him.

So they'd upped security on his room. They now had a tide of guards outside it with loaded guns, plus patrols every ten minutes. The entire hospital had also been thoroughly searched. The General was currently testing every person who had been in the hospital in the allotted time frame both physically and mentally in case they had a shapeshifter on their hands, but so far there had been no anomalies.

Now Jack was sitting there, Martha was getting some sleep, Donna was in Glasgow and the Doctor was asleep. And it wasn't even 4pm yet.

In the few hours that had passed, the Doctor was taken off for scans, brought back, removed from intubation, had blood extracted, and then a nurse came in to give the Time Lord a wash, shave and a change of bandages. She removed the bandages completely from his head and took out the stitches. The cast on his foot was made smaller, the bandages on his fingers removed and the cast on his arm also reduced. The bruises and cuts of the crash were gone now. He was healing.

The nurse left, and Jack finally moved forward, clutching a brown paper bag. He took a seat, and rummaged through the bag he was holding. It contained all of the Doctor's belongings that were taken from him at the London hospital, only just arrived by helicopter. Sonic screwdriver, psychic paper, a ball of string, a pen, a notepad, a whistle, a ratchet, a ping-pong ball, a polythene bag, a torch, his glasses, and a white paper bag half-filled with questionably old jelly babies. Carefully Jack picked out the sonic screwdriver and placed it in the Doctor's hand, for no particular reason. It just seemed right. The Doctor's hand responded, automatically gripping like a baby's hand clutching at an adult finger. His thumb even seemed to find the switch, by some sort of instinct.

Jack couldn't help looking up at the Time Lord's now unbandaged head, pushing back his hair to reveal the exposed mark of his brain surgery. He'd healed so well that all that was left was a red semicircular scar, which was covered by hair that had grown unusually fast, seemingly in a conscious effort to catch up with the rest. If that was a Time Lord body thing, it was very impressive. Jack wondered for a brief moment if he'd actually scar, or if that was another Time Lord thing that he wouldn't. He'd have to ask the Doctor when he could speak English again.

Suddenly the sonic screwdriver activated, and Jack looked quickly to see the Doctor holding the sonic aloft, buzzing in the air. The sound of the machines around them suddenly quietened, and the Doctor breathed out in what Jack could only assume to be a sigh of relief.

"Doctor?" he asked, looking back at the Time Lord's face. The Doctor's eyes snapped open and fixed on him. He gave a brief smile.

* * *

><p>"You found it," the Doctor realised in a murmur, holding his sonic up to his face. "No offense but those machines are really annoying."<p>

Jack just looked at him blankly. The Doctor sighed and instead decided to check himself. Two legs, two arms, two hands, not bald… Oh, wait.

He reached up and got his hand on his head, his fingers running through his copious amounts of hair. He immediately found the scar denoting his brain surgery, and quickly realised the staples had been removed. He mused for a moment, running his finger over the incision. He had no idea whether that would scar. He hoped not. At least his head appeared to be healing, but the pain was still very much there.

"Morphine," the Doctor said immediately, looking around the bed. He found it, and pressed the button a few times before looking up at Jack. "What happened?"

It was painfully apparent that Jack had no idea what he was talking about as he stared at him, confused.

"What happened?" he repeated, but there was no way of miming it. After a very long moment, Jack seemed to finally get what he was saying and made a series of mimes involving crossing his fingers, injecting something into his arm and garroting his throat.

"Poison," the Doctor reasoned, partially from his mime but also partially from the way he felt.

Jack continued to make the same mimes, until the Doctor held up his hand to stop him. "I've got it," he insisted, nodding.

Jack nodded in return, and held up a brown paper bag, handing it to him. The Doctor looked inside, and immediately beamed.

"You've got my things!" he enthused, checking everything was there. "Hold on… where's the yo-yo?"

Nothing but silence came back to him and he looked up at Jack, who was frowning. He said something.

"What?" the Doctor asked.

Jack said something back.

"I can't understand you," the Doctor emphasised, making a questioning gesture.

Jack brought out his manipulator, displaying an analog clock for some reason. He pointed at it.

"No," the Doctor stressed, shaking his head. "Oh, forget it," he moaned, his thoughts instantly turning to Donna's abilities of communication. "Where's Donna?" he asked. Jack frowned at him again. "Donna," the Doctor repeated. "Don-na."

"Martha," Jack said, pointing at the door.

"Donna!" the Doctor emphasised. He was sure he was saying it right in English.

Jack pointed to himself, then at the door. "Martha."

The Doctor sighed, and eventually nodded before Jack left at a jog. He looked around the room for a moment, and eventually focussed on the wheelchair beside the bed. He needed to stop lying around and start doing something about the Kryx, as UNIT clearly weren't doing anything. So he raised the sonic to release the wheelchair's brakes, and leant over to pull it to the bed. He locked the brakes once more, released the side rail of his bed. He pushed himself around one-handed so his legs were hanging over the side of the bed, and braced himself.

_Deep breath…_

He pushed himself up one-handed, and all but fell into the chair. After a few more deep breaths he managed to straighten himself up and transfer all the drugs wired to him to the chair.

Now for the difficult part. He tried both using the sonic to turn the wheels and tried pushing the wheels manually, but with only one arm and a non-motorised wheelchair he was just going to end up going around in circles.

After some thought, he eventually decided to pull himself along using his good leg and use his good arm to push on convenient surfaces. It took some doing, but he eventually managed to pull himself to the door, and got through the doorway only to meet a platoon of armed UNIT guards, who all turned to stare at him.

"Oh, hello," he said, surprised.

The UNIT guards said something and made to move, but before they got there Martha and Jack appeared at the end of the corridor, running towards him.

Martha shouted something, and the guards stood away. She reached him, looking a little more than annoyed, saying something with a very irate tone, holding up her hand.

_Stop._

"Martha, I don't need this," the Doctor said, pointing at the UNIT guards.

She shook her head, pointing at him, then miming sleep.

_You sleep._

She grabbed the wheelchair and tried to turn him around, but the Doctor quickly grabbed the wheel to stop it turning. "No, I want my Tardis."

She mimed again, clearly not trying to work out what he was saying.

_Sleep._

"I'm not sleeping!" the Doctor insisted. "This is ridiculous, I need to find the Tardis."

Martha mimed again, but this time he ignored her.

"If I've been poisoned again that means they're still after me and they'll kill all of your soldiers."

_Sleep._

"You're not even listening to me!" the Doctor shouted, frustrated.

_Sleep._

"Tardis. I need my Tardis," the Doctor said, imitating a vworping sounded pathetic even to his own ears, laughable in fact. But this wasn't a laughing situation. She was beginning to get quite angry.

_Sleep._

"I need my Tardis!" the Doctor yelled. "You must be able to track the ship, they must have a teleport point on Earth!"

She held up her hand again.

_Stop._

"Why should I?" the Doctor shouted, thoroughly annoyed now at the fact she wasn't even _trying _to understand him.

Suddenly she dropped to his height, clearly calming herself down as her voice dropped to soft tones. She said something, conveyed with emotion.

"I can't understand you," he said, finally dropping his voice, but he was still irritated. As she mimed sleeping again, he couldn't help but throw his arm up in exasperation. "Oh, what's the point," he moaned. "You're not even _trying _to understand me."

She reached up to his face, cupping his cheek. He quickly pushed her hand away. "Get off."

Martha looked a little crestfallen at his callous response, but he didn't care. No one was listening to him anyway.

* * *

><p>Jack rested a hand on Martha's shoulder. "Let him do what he wants," he said.<p>

"He's too ill!" Martha stressed.

"Martha, he's clearly extremely agitated about something and staying in that room isn't gonna help."

She paused, sighed, and stood up.

"Jhu'eon'o haloh'ei!?" the Doctor shouted, his hand entangled in his hair.

Jack dropped to him. "Doctor, calm down. What do you want?"

The Doctor made a gesture like a light flashing on and off, accompanied with a vworping noise. For the first time, Jack and Martha actually listened to him.

"Tardis," Jack assumed, looking at Martha. "Have we got any idea where it is?"

She shook her head.

"There must be something," Jack insisted.

Martha sighed. "Look, we could ask the General if Unit have made any progress but I don't think it'll help."

"Let's just do _something," _Jack insisted. "Just take him to the General, let him figure out there's nothing we can do and he'll calm down."

"Okay," Martha concluded, nodding at him and the Doctor. "Go and tell the nurses I'm taking him to the General."

Jack nodded, patted the Doctor's shoulder and left. Martha took hold of the handles of the wheelchair, and the Doctor quickly held the wheel again.

Martha nearly shouted at him, but forced herself to calm down, reminding herself that doctors, especially this doctor, made very bad patients. He wasn't in anyway similar to any patient she'd had before. Quite a lot of them were traumatised and it took a lot of effort to get them to go out of their room. With the Doctor it was a struggle to get him to stay in.

Had she really expected it any other way?

She pointed to the corridor to indicate that they weren't going back into the room. He relented his grip, and she began to push him.

* * *

><p>They reached the General's office, but he wasn't there. Martha pushed him in anyway, deciding to wait for the General to emerge. The Doctor was already up before she'd stopped the chair, stumbling to the desk and dropping down into the leather seat.<p>

"Doctor…" Martha began, but there was no point continuing. He was already rummaging through the desk with his sonic in hand, obviously looking for any clues to the whereabouts of his TARDIS.

The door opened, and General Spitz entered. He stopped immediately, frowned at the Doctor, and then raised an eyebrow to Martha. "Can I help?" he asked, confused as the Doctor completely ignored him, paper flying everywhere.

"Sorry," Martha apologised. "He does this. We were wondering if there was any update on his Tardis? He's a bit worried about her, I think."

The Doctor went for the drawers next, pulling them out and rifling through.

"No," the General said eventually. "And I would appreciate it if he stopped decimating my desk."

"He'll get bored soon," Martha assured Spitz.

The General stepped forward to the Time Lord. "Doctor, this is _complete _insubordination…"

"His middle name," Martha muttered under her breath.

With a buzz of sonic blue the top drawer of the desk opened, and the Doctor groped around until suddenly he stopped, and looked at Spitz with wide eyes.

Martha watched as Spitz stared back, confused. Without moving his eyes from Spitz the Doctor reached into the drawer and pulled out a small black box. Calmly, he pressed the tip of his sonic screwdriver to the base of the box, and turned it on.

Suddenly there was a quick flash and a strange high-pitched whine, startling Martha. For a moment she wondered what had caused it, until she realised the General was gone. She was about to call out for him, but her voice almost immediately died in her throat.

Stood exactly where he'd been was the now quite familiar thin reptilian being, with shining, scaly brown skin and a thin, featureless mouth. Its eyes were a shining black, like large glossy beads bulging out of its face. Even as it blinked it eyelids closed from the side, accompanied with a quiet hiss and a flicker of its thin tongue under sharp, unforgiving fangs. Its arms were elongated and slender with sharp claws on the end of what she could only deemed to be its hands - arms that were doubled in thickness by a tentacle on each side that had both been forced down one bulging shirt sleeve.

If it had been a lighter moment, Martha would have laughed at the way the general's uniform hung loosely on the thin alien frame. But it wasn't funny. Not in the slightest. The alien looked at her with the shining, devilish eyes, and all Martha could do was stand there, staring. She had only ever seen the other alien unconscious or as a captive, and distinctly without much threat. But this one was free. Free, armed, and utterly terrifying.

In the brief, stunned silence that followed, Martha forced herself to stop gaping and start considering her options. The door was ajar. If she started running now, she could probably make it out before the alien could stop her. But that would leave the Doctor at its mercy. But he could handle himself.

_… Not in his state._

She couldn't just leave him, even though he probably wanted her to.

The alien twitched, and she finally forced herself to move, going straight to the Doctor and grabbing his good arm, pulling him desperately towards the door.

"Krashk'korzak…" the alien hissed, and went straight for its gun.

* * *

><p>"Get down!" the Doctor shouted in mid-step, grabbing Martha and wrenching her down to the ground just as the first shot was fired over their heads.<p>

Martha started shouting, obviously trying to call to the outside for help. The Doctor quickly grabbed her shoulder, pulling her to face him.

"Run!" he shouted, gesturing as best he could at the door. "I'll distract him!"

Martha nodded, the meaning very, very clear. She got up, but before the Doctor could attract the Kryx's attention the alien launched forward in the blink of an eye and plunged his fangs straight into her neck.

"No!" the Doctor shouted. If his immune system had that much trouble coping with the poison, Rassilon only knew how devastating it would be to humans. But he couldn't do anything. The Kryx was lean and weedy-looking, but complex muscles in the Kryx resulted in a savage, hidden strength. There was no way he could wrestle the Kryx off of Martha, and _definitely _not in his current state.

So instead he dived forward to the Kryx and drew his gun out of his holster, immediately backing to the other side of the room.

"Hey, look what I've got!" the Doctor shouted, waving the gun. Finally the Kryx turned, dropping Martha who collapsed to the floor, unconscious or dead. The Doctor couldn't tell which.

"Vashkooor…" the Kryx hissed.

_Next plan? _his brain asked him seriously.

He could admit to himself that, as per usual, had _no _idea where he was going with this. But no. He may have lost his voice, his co-ordination, use of his left leg and right arm, a bit of his hair and his yo-yo, but he hadn't lost his knack. His knack for improvisation. That was his thing. Relying on whims and instincts, madcap plans with impossible in the description, that was him. He was the Doctor. And he was a whimmer.

So, on a complete whim, he raised the gun and emptied the barrel. Five bullets and a shell dropped to the floor in a series of clicks.

"Whoops!" he exclaimed, looking sheepish. "Looks like we're both unarmed."

The Kryx bore his fangs and raised his claws in response, getting ready to strike.

"... Except those," the Doctor realised dully, and on his next whim, promptly threw the gun straight at the window of the office. But without much coordination in him, the gun flew off in completely the wrong direction and hit a filing cabinet with a clang. It dropped redundantly to the floor.

_… Oh._

The Kryx darted forward, and before the Doctor knew it he was sent flying across the room, and promptly went through the very window he'd been trying to throw the gun through, headfirst in an explosion of glass. The alarms began before he hit the floor, the force of the throw propelling him in a roll to hit the other wall, crying out as the pain immediately soared to new, terrible levels. He nearly passed out, but forced himself to stay conscious through some sort of miraculous willpower.

_Move, Doctor, move!_

The Kryx appeared in his view long before he could gather his thoughts up enough to move. He grabbed the Doctor by the neck, his claws slicing through his skin again as the alien dragged him back into the room over the broken glass. The Doctor tried to flail, or wriggle, or do _anything _that would make it difficult for the alien, but his efforts were beyond useless.

As soon as the Kryx had him back in the room he was on top of him, the alien's hands wrapped around his neck. The Time Lord summoned every bead of power left in his wrecked body to grab the arms and force them away, but the alien was far stronger than him. All he could do was lie there, eyes bulging, trying desperately to get some air in.

* * *

><p>It was pathetic, the way the Time Lord squirmed. How could a being so feared by the universe be so utterly helpless?<p>

No matter. The Chief wanted the Time Lord dead, and with Klax-lox failing to deliver on the task, Visch-nar was all too happy to oblige. This meant promotion. Perhaps even adoption by the Chief. Stupid half-breed Klax-lox would be disinherited for his failure, and Visch-nar would be in line for Chiefdom.

All the females he wanted. Riches beyond his imagining. Command of an empire. All his. Just for killing one alien.

"Victory for the Kryx!" Visch-nar shouted triumphantly, and squeezed so hard that something in the Time Lord's neck audibly broke.

* * *

><p>The pain didn't even matter, as it could never contest with the avalanche currently going on in the Doctor's head.<p>

But the Kryx knew him. He knew about Time Lord regeneration. He'd happily crush the Doctor's skull to prevent regeneration, and judging by how quickly he was using up his respiratory bypass system, that really wouldn't be long. The Doctor almost wished the Kryx knew about arteries so he'd just cut his throat and be done with it.

The building alarms were still going, drilling right into his brain so loudly the Doctor felt as if his entire brain was bouncing about in his skull. But alarms were meant to alarm people. Where were the alarmed people!?

_Where's Jack!?_

"Get off!" the Doctor tried to shout, but all that came out was a rasp. The Kryx pushed some more, clearly getting agitated that he wasn't dying and quickly as he'd like. After a moment the Kryx fumed and finally got off of him, leaving him completely free to move. But even a foot away from the door the Doctor couldn't move to escape. He couldn't move a limb or even a single finger, and the gasps of breath he was trying to take accompanied with chesty coughs just weren't enough. His neck was broken. He knew that. He _felt _that.

The Kryx reappeared in his blurry vision, towering over him. He knew he'd won. He raised a blurry black object - the gun, it had to be, now loaded - and raised it to the Doctor's head.

_That's it. It's over. _

The Kryx's finger moved to the trigger.

* * *

><p>Before Visch-nar could pull the trigger there came the sound of running footsteps from down the corridor. He panicked, dived to the desk for his morphic translation box and activated it. Immediately he morphed back into General Spitz, and promptly shot himself in the leg.<p>

He screamed in pain, dropping to the floor next to the dazed Time Lord. He'd have to kill it later.

Hordes of human soldiers ran in, lead by the Captain in the trenchcoat.

"Quick, after it!" Visch-nar shouted, pointing to the right, his speech translating through the box. "The alien ran that way!"

Half of the soldiers turned and ran to follow his command. The Captain remained, however, pointing the soldiers to the woman before diving down next to the Time Lord.

"What happened!?" the man asked quickly.

"They were being attacked by one of the aliens, it was suffocating the Doctor when I ran in, it panicked, shot me and ran!" Visch-nar gasped, holding his bloody leg.

"What about Martha!?"

"I don't know, she was like that when I got here!"

The human looked at the Time Lord, panicking. "He's awake… Doctor, can you hear me?"

"N'qe'af'ko… ko'af ce'Kleshka..." the Time Lord rasped, staring at Visch-nar, clearly wracked with pain.

"You've hit your head, try to stay awake, the doctors will get here in a sec," the man said caringly, cupping the Time Lord's cheek. The affection was sickening Visch-nar. Pathetic, emotional humans.

"N'qe'af'ko…" the Time Lord stressed, still staring right into Visch-nar's eyes.

"Just relax, you're gonna be fine," the human seemed to purr, kissing the Time Lord's forehead.

_Yuck._

"N'qe'af'ko…" the Time Lord said again, almost in tears. "N'qe'af'ko…"

"It's okay," the human whispered, stroking the Time Lord's face. "It's okay."

* * *

><p>"It was him, Jack," the Doctor said for the fifth time, barely able to form words. "He's a Kryx. It was him. It was <em>him…"<em>

Nobody understood.


	15. The Specimen

**A/N: **I know, it's been a while. I had exams and essays! I doth protest.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 15 - The Specimen<span>

Despite having a sudden five figure windfall, clearly old habits died hard and in the end Donna had accomplished most of her shopping in a menagerie of charity and bargain shops down the high street, managing to find both clothes and various objects she could pass off as souvenirs from countries around the world. Everything but a sombrero. But that was just her luck.

They'd been unable to fly back to the Loch that evening due to the forecasted storm, and though she had been anxious at first to get back to the Doctor, in the end she had decided not to worry about it _that _much. He was in good hands, besides, UNIT had put her up in a very nice hotel, and they'd said nothing about room service bills being her responsibility. To make her feel a bit better, she'd attempted to call in the evening but there was no signal on the other end. The UNIT pilot had told her it was quite regular to lose contact with the Loch due to an impeccable combination of its location and the hardy British weather. He'd also assured her that there was about 900 pages of emergency protocols if anything went wrong. So in the end she'd shrugged, got some ice cream on room service and took a lovely long bath.

She'd then had a rude awakening at 6:30am from the pilot who told her they had an opening in the flight schedule in thirty minutes. Somewhat disgruntled, she'd packed up her bags, got dressed, and purposely avoided the UNIT soldier's gaze as she walked past reception where a hotel employee was asking him for payment of five tubs of Ben and Jerry's.

She could discern that now she _hated _helicopters. It wasn't just the fact that the first time the Doctor had almost died on one, it was also the loud noise, the cumbersome helmet and the persistent, terrible feeling that the only thing separating her and the ground far, far below was a bit of metal. She'd never had a fear of flying before. She still wouldn't say she had, but it was definitely unnerving.

When they got to the Loch, no one was there to greet her. She didn't think much of it, offloading her new purchases into her temporary bedroom before pulling out a present she'd bought for the Doctor and going straight to his room.

There she found a platoon of soldiers guarding the door. She had to show her ID four times before they let her in, and in there she found Jack sitting next to the Doctor's bed, staring at a sleeping Doctor who had a neck brace on, and his head was bandaged again.

Donna frowned. "What happened?"

Jack looked up, sombre. "He and Martha were attacked. It got away. Martha's been poisoned, the Doctor was strangled and he's rebroken his neck, and his head's in a mess again."

Donna suddenly felt very cold. "Oh," she muttered, dropping into the spare seat. "How's Martha?"

"In a coma."

"But…"

"She's stable, but it's gonna be a while until she's up again. Stein's taken primary care of him."

Donna's heart skipped a beat. "He's…"

"I know."

"But he'll…"

"The General can't do anything. It was in the contract. Unit didn't expect to lose Martha. Stein's already done brain surgery."

"But that's insane!" Donna exclaimed.

Jack nodded slowly.

"Has he woken up?"

"A little bit before the brain surgery. He was a bit confused. Since then, nothing. But I'm expecting to get kicked out this room any minute." He gazed at the Doctor for a moment longer, before looking up at her. Then his eyes dropped to the bag in her hand. "What's that?" he asked.

Donna looked a bit embarrassed. "Got him a present," she said, and pulled out some tubs of Play-Doh. "Thought it might help his hands, and he could make what he's trying to say."

After a moment, Jack nodded. "That's a good idea."

She smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I'm full of 'em."

Suddenly the Doctor made a strange choking noise, his entire body moving as though something was in his throat. Jack and Donna jumped up immediately, but before they could try and fathom the problem the Doctor's eyes snapped open, wide and alarmed, darting around the room in some kind of panic.

"Je'af ce'time!" he suddenly shouted, grabbing Jack's wrist and looking desperately at his manipulator. "Je'af ce'_time!"_

Donna looked up at Jack, confused. "Jack!?"

"Ei'mifa'o ce'time!" the Doctor shouted, letting go of Jack's wrist, clearly not getting what he wanted and instead looking around for something else. "Ce'_time!"_

He started trying to get up, but the two didn't even have to try and stop him as the upwards motion clearly caused him to be hit with some sort of vertigo or labyrinthitis as he abruptly backwards again. His eyes weren't focusing on anything, a strange, glassy look on him. Donna hated that. Hated that look on him. Did he even know where he was?

"What the-" Jack choked, but then Donna realised as suddenly the Time Lord began to cry.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," she said quickly, taking the Time Lord into a hug. "I'm sorry."

"Donna?" Jack asked, confused as the Doctor seemed to subdue slightly, clinging onto her with his nails digging into her skin as though he'd fall into some sort of abyss without her to hold onto.

"... Time, he's saying time. The word for time, it's gotta be the same in English as in Gallifreyan," Donna garbled out in one breath. "He was looking at your wrist."

"So?"

"He was asking what the time was!" Donna clarified, still holding onto him. His fingernails were beginning to hurt, now. She didn't really care.

"... What?"

"He's a Time Lord!" Donna stressed. "Surely he's gotta _know _what the time is!"

Jack's jaw dropped as finally he seemed to realise the significance of that. "... He's lost his time sense."

"What on Earth is happening here?" an unwelcome voice suddenly came from the doorway. Jack and Donna looked up immediately to see Stein and his familiar sneer. He looked at Donna, and his lip curled even more. "Oh, you."

"Morning to you too," Donna responded sarcastically.

"Will you please let go of my patient?" Stein asked callously.

"How about no?" Donna responded, purposely hugging the traumatised Time Lord even tighter.

"Let go or I shall be forced to remove you."

"He's lost his time sense!" Donna snapped back. "How would you feel if you woke up without one of your senses!?"

"You might soon," Jack grated under his breath to Stein, so quietly Donna only just about caught it.

"It's lost its time sense?" Stein repeated, suddenly looking very interested as he pulled out his notepad. "Interesting… What is a time sense?"

"None of your business, actually," Donna responded sharply.

Stein's face immediately dropped, the notepad going back inside his jacket. "You have no right to be in this room. Let go of him and leave."

Jack stood up, squaring up to him. "Make us."

As if by magic, suddenly two army soldiers appeared behind Stein, armed.

"Let go and leave the room," Stein repeated smoothly.

Donna shared a glance with Jack. Jack nodded, almost imperceptibly, and inclined his head to the door. Donna huffed, and let go of the Doctor. The Time Lord immediately cried out, shaking even more as he desperately tried to find her again, tears still streaming down his face.

"We're coming back," Donna heard Jack whisper to the Doctor before they were forced out of the room.

* * *

><p>"He was okay when he woke up earlier. Stein must've done something in his brain…" Jack surmised five minutes later, pacing up and down in Martha's room. He was far too agitated to sit down.<p>

"That does it," Donna suddenly said in a decisive tone, standing up.

"What?"

"You said you had a Xenobiologist in Cardiff, right?"

"Yeah…"

"I've never been to Wales."

Jack stopped pacing, looking at her seriously. "We just take him and leave?"

"Well, he can't stay here," Donna countered. "God knows what that man's doing to him."

Jack slowly nodded. "... Just one problem."

"What?"

"How are we going to get him out?"

Donna thought about that for a moment, her mouth open, obviously ready to deliver some flawless, extraordinarily well thought out grand plan. Eventually, she dropped to sit down again, shutting her mouth as clearly nothing came.

Jack continued to pace.

"Hold on," Donna said. "What about we try go over Stein's head? Get through to some of the big wigs in London? Colonel Mace, people like that?"

Jack shook his head. "No, it's all in the contract They're tied by law. We're on our own." He paused, and then thought some more. "No, hold on. We don't _need _to go above Stein's head. Unit love him. The soldiers themselves. There's more of them than army soldiers. They'd help us if we explained what Stein's doing to him."

"Oh, yeah," Donna realised, her eyes widening.

"Who's the guy that visited him?"

"Private Harrison Long," Donna recalled.

Jack nodded. "Let's find him."

* * *

><p>Stein was having a fantastic day.<p>

He was smiling, looking down at the alien currently strapped down to the bed in an examination room, looking around at its surroundings. The acute awareness Stein had observed in the alien before the brain surgery Stein had performed was only just returning.

During the brain surgery, Stein had experimented, just to see. The complex construction of the alien's brain was absolutely magnificent and Stein had administered a couple of jabs inside its skull to see how it would affect the alien. Clearly the left hemisphere was capable of controlling both speech and this 'time sense', which the loss of caused the alien to become mostly helpless, though it seemed to have been able to adapt eventually. There was still the question of the additional lobe, however - the function of that would have to be explored after the alien's brain healed slightly.

Stein looked at his subordinate standing next to him, who had just finished reeling off the alien's vitals. "Thank you. Hmm. Sad, isn't it?"

"Sad?" his subordinate asked as Stein ensured the strap on the alien's right wrist was tight enough.

"It has absolutely no idea what we're saying. Fascinating concept, isn't it? This isn't just a foreigner who can't speak English, this is an alien with a completely new language, constructed with syllables and sound we've not even discovered, some we probably can't even pronounce. Does that make the alien more intelligent, do you think?"

"I don't know, sir," the subordinate mused. "Maybe it's intelligence in a different form?"

"Exactly," Stein agreed, nodding. "But maybe not. From all the Unit files I've read, this alien's supposed to be quite good at it. Allegedly used to speak every language in the Universe, and knew how to use those words as well. Apparently it could talk Hitler into taking up charitable works. But not now, hmm? Now it's trapped inside its own head. It's got no voice. No one can understand it. I wonder if it's lonely? Can it be lonely? Does it feel like us?"

The alien's eyes continued to flicker around the room.

"It seems scared," the subordinate noted. "It's capable of emotion."

Stein nodded again. "You see, that's what I'm fascinated by, and what Unit are missing out on by not testing it. The universe, as I have always believed, is a beautiful, glorious place, full of concepts we're yet to discover. This alien may hold the key to so many answers. Maybe it has emotions we've yet to discover ourselves. Bodily processes that we haven't needed yet. And who knows what's in its blood? A cure for cancer?" He paused, laughing. "Cliché, I know but we must ask all these questions."

"Have you experimented on the other alien?" the subordinate wondered.

"Only a little. I did a vivisection and interrogation. But that one doesn't fascinate me, not like this one. It looks just like us. Perhaps it feels just like us. It certainly feels pain like us."

Suddenly the alien's eyes dropped closed and the heart rate monitor flatlined. Stein rolled his eyes, grabbed the alien's shoulders and began to shake it, hard. Immediately the alien woke up again, crying out.

"No healing comas, not yet," Stein told it firmly, and slapped it around the face.

"Jhu'eon'af alok'ei?" the alien moaned.

"I wonder what it said?" the subordinate asked, taking a note.

"Speak again," Stein ordered the alien. When it didn't say anything, Stein slapped it again. "Speak!"

It still didn't say anything.

"I think it may need some coercing," Stein mused, gazing at the specimen.

"Should I get the tools?" the subordinate asked, looking at Stein.

"Yes," Stein replied, nodding. His subordinate left, leaving him alone with the alien who was gazing at him with those deep, brown eyes. "I told you we would get well acquainted."

"Ei'moh'a'lao'ei solian'ia klopa'eon," the alien muttered.

Stein knew it was an insult, just from its tone. But there was no point feeling anything from it. It was just a specimen. It could insult. That was a note to be taken.

"I wonder…" Stein began calmly as his subordinate returned with a tray of metal instruments, "for our next test, how long aliens can go without breathing, and what gives it that function? Can we save thousands a year from drowning?"

Stein pulled away the neck brace as his subordinate handed him an appropriate device. The alien obviously figured out what he was planning to do and started trying to fight him, but the straps kept it in place.

"It understands what we're about to do," Stein said. "Take note of everything I say from here on in."

The subordinate nodded and took out his notepad.

* * *

><p>"... So that's the situation," Jack explained to the Private twenty minutes later in the ward, full of injured UNIT service personnel, hanging on his every word. "We just need help to get him out."<p>

The UNIT boys exchanged glances. "This'll be risky," Harrison told Jack. "Breaking the law. Might end up in the glasshouse."

"Yes," Jack replied honestly. "I'm not dressing it up. Don't expect a lot of commendations for this but the Doctor's in trouble right on Unit property. God knows what's happening to him right now."

Harrison slowly nodded, looking back at his comrades. "Boys?" he asked.

"I'm in," one of the amputees said, nodding. "Anything for the Doctor."

"Me too," another agreed, which was quickly followed by a chorus of affirmative statements.

Jack smiled. "Okay. Need a plan of action."

Harrison nodded, leaning forward. "Try this…"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Review reply! Yaaaay! And all that.


	16. War

**A/N: **So I didn't review reply. But it's been much longer than usual so I figured you'd rather I posted the chapter rather than prattle at you all for ages. Swear I shall do it this time! Honest.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 16 - War<span>

Donna strode with the utmost confidence down the corridor towards the General's Office. Only three hours later and the plan was already in motion.

At that very moment, Harrison and a couple of other soldiers were retrieving an alien Jack said they had in a holding cell as insurance in case the aliens attacked again, while Jack was retrieving the Doctor. All Donna had to do was inform the General of their plan so he could act appropriately, and then she'd meet Jack and the soldiers at the helipad where they'd load the Doctor on with the alien and a soldier to guard him, plus her and Jack of course, then fly off to Cardiff before Stein realised the Doctor had gone. Her only regret was the plan didn't include Martha, but the helicopter would be overloaded with another person on board. Besides, the injured UNIT soldiers had assured them Martha would be looked after.

She reached the General's office, his broken window boarded up. She rapped gently on the door.

"Come."

She entered the room, finding the General at his desk. He looked up, smiled briefly.

"Good evening," he greeted.

"General," she began, closing the door behind her. "We've got a plan and we thought we'd better let you know so you can do what you need do to stop yourself getting in trouble."

"Hmm?" he asked, dropping his pen.

Donna checked out the unbroken window, but no one seemed to be there. She took the seat on the other side of his desk and leant forward, conspiratorial. "We're gonna break him out. Jack's got a team in Cardiff with a xenobiologist that can look after him. We're getting him away from Stein and the army."

If the General was surprised, he didn't show it. "I see," he said quietly, nodding. "Good idea. When are you stealing him?"

"Right now," Donna replied. "I've gotta be at the helipad in four minutes."

The General nodded again, getting up. "I understand. But I'd like to come with you to make sure he's okay."

Donna shook her head. "We can't take anymore, the helicopter would get overloaded. We've already got six people and a load of medical stuff."

"I'm sure you have room for one more," General Spitz persisted.

"No. Jack said we'd fall out of the sky," Donna answered, snorting with impromptu laughter a little bit. "Way to help my growing fear of flying."

"But I'd _really _like to come with you," Spitz maintained, his palms now flat on the desk. He was gazing at her, unblinking.

Donna frowned a little bit, getting slightly annoyed now. "Look, we can't take you, all right? Just follow us."

"I want to be on the same helicopter," the General persisted, his voice becoming increasingly sharper with every progressive syllable.

"Look, I'd better go…" she said, gesturing to the door and getting up. However, she stopped when she suddenly heard Spitz sighed loudly and pull open a drawer. She turned back, about to have a go, when she froze.

Standing there behind the desk was no longer Spitz, but a strange, alien creature like she'd never envisioned even in her worst nightmares. He stood there, a strange black box in his clawed, scaly hand, his tongue flickering out from his lips.

"Oh my god," Donna choked, knowing she should move but somehow her legs were completely stuck in position. But as the alien advanced, claws and fangs out and pointing straight at her, she managed to once again get the muscles working before she turned, and ran for her life.

* * *

><p>Jack had reached the Doctor's room, nodded to the Unit guards outside and gone straight in.<p>

He ignored everything about the Doctor that had changed during Stein's 'care', and instead focussed straight away on releasing him from the straps. He then checked for a wheelchair, but there were none in the room. He'd have to carry him.

Suddenly his phone rang. It could only be Donna. He answered it within two rings. "Hello?"

_"Jack!" _it was Donna in a panic, out of breath - she'd clearly been running. _"The General's an alien! He was chasing me but he turned off, I think he's heading for you, for the Doctor!"_

Jack swore under his breath, checking outside the room but all was still and quiet. For now. "Get to Harrison and the others, we'll get to the helicopter no matter what, okay?"

_"Okay!" _she gasped, and hung up.

With a grunt, Jack lifted the Time Lord in both arms, trying to keep his head in the crook of his arm to support his neck. Almost immediately the Doctor whined, a pathetic, high-pitched whine that caught in his throat, indicating the amount of pain he was in.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Jack muttered repeatedly. The Time Lord's frail body felt so light in his arms. He'd lost so much weight in the past few weeks, if that was even possible.

"Can someone gimme a hand?" Jack called out of the door, and immediately two soldiers came in. "Someone get the drugs he's linked to, and someone hold his neck!"

They obeyed, and again the Doctor whined.

"Sorry, I'll be quick," Jack told the Time Lord, and with all the UNIT soldiers in tow he swept down the corridor in the direction of the helipad.

* * *

><p>Donna met the UNIT soldiers just as they were coming out of a small room to the side, dragging an alien behind them, covered in blood both old and new.<p>

She stopped for a moment, apprehensive.

"It's all right, it can't attack," Harrison told her, indicating the cuffs and ropes wrapped around it to almost comedic proportions. "It's secure."

Donna nodded, but the clear mistreatment of the alien, whatever it was, slightly unsettled her. Then again, this alien had killed two people, shot a defenceless woman and had attempted to murder the Doctor on multiple occasions. So she decided not to worry too much about it.

"Where's the General?" Harrison asked.

"Err, yeah, change of plan. He's one of them," she said, pointing at the alien, who flinched slightly. "I ran, I think he went after the Doctor. I called Jack, he knows."

Harrison nodded. "Jack and the boys will take care of it. Let's get to the helipad."

The group began to move, Donna with them as they pounded down the corridor together. But they had got no further than ten metres when they were met by a horde of army soldiers.

"Hand over the alien!" one shouted, raising his gun.

Harrison glanced at his group. "Boys, gets the boomsticks ready," he said, and the group immediately pulled out their weapons, locking and loading. Almost immediately the army fired and Donna shrieked, grabbing the nearest person and dragging them down to the ground with her by pure instinct.

"Run, Donna!" Harrison shouted, and, still holding onto the person, Donna jumped to her feet and dragged them with her back down the corridor and around the corner, where the person cried out in pain and hit the floor, gasping.

It was only then she realised she'd taken the alien with her.

Instinctively she backed away, but after a few moments it became apparent that the alien wasn't going anywhere. She realised with a hint of guilt, that she'd taken it by the arm that was covered in the most blood.

"Sorry!" she gasped over the gunfire still ringing out, her hand over her mouth. It didn't seem to register her sentiment, just writhing on the floor in pain, holding its shoulder.

The gunfire seemed to increase in volume. She had to find cover.

"Sorry, sorry!" Donna shouted again, taking the alien's better arm and pulling it into a side room, closing it behind her before diving quickly to lower the blinds.

For moment she just breathed, half expecting the alien to jump up and be at her throat before she even turned around, but it wasn't. She turned slowly around and saw it still on the floor, shaking badly.

"Okay…" Donna breathed, and took a step forward. "Are you… okay?"

The alien obviously didn't understand her, but its big black snake eyes were looking at her, filled with tears and… was that desperation?

Well, she'd be pretty desperate too in its position.

"I'm gonna help you," Donna said slowly before she even had time to think that proposition through. "Just… stay still, okay?"

It didn't move, just lying there bleeding. She stepped forward a few times towards the alien, and pretty soon she was in its attack distance. She hesitated for a moment, ready to launch back if it tried to move, but it did nothing. So she knelt down, reached out, and took hold of its injured arm with care.

It flinched, but it didn't attack. So she tried to wipe any the blood with her sleeve, but quite a lot of it was dried. Instead she quickly searched the room and found a first aid box with some wipes in it. Carefully and methodically, she began to wipe the blood away from its scaly skin. Soon it became apparent that the blood wasn't from its front - it was from a wound to the back of its shoulder.

"I'm gonna turn you over, okay?" Donna said to the alien. Just like the Doctor in his language-less state, it seemed to get her, and nodded. She carefully pushed it onto its front and cleaned the rest of the wound to reveal what the problem was - a small wound to the back of its shoulder was clearly infected.

"Sorry, I don't know how to fix this," Donna told it, shrugging and shaking her head.

"Rashkk'ta-koor," the alien said, shaking badly.

She had no idea what it said. "Um… yeah. Look, I'll bandage it and put it in a sling. I'll get someone to help you after, okay?"

"Trakkla-s," the alien said.

"Oh, totally," she hummed as a means of filling in the silence, and proceeded to do her work.

* * *

><p>Jack and his group had only been on the move for a few minutes when suddenly the alien appeared at the end of the corridor, the general's uniform hanging loosely on its slender frame. It raised a gun, and ran towards them.<p>

"Shoot to kill!" Jack yelled, turning back so the Doctor's body was shielded with his own. Immediately the corridor filled with the sound of a bullet storm, but it was over in three seconds.

"Target killed, sir," one of UNIT said to him, and he turned back to find the alien lying on the floor, leaking red and riddled with bullets.

Jack nodded. "Keep running to the helipad!" he ordered, but before they could even take a step a crowd of army soldiers appeared, blocking the way.

For a moment, neither side moved.

"Sir?" one of the UNIT soldiers whispered to Jack.

"Retreat!" Jack ordered, but before they could make a move, the army soldiers began to shoot. Bullets whizzed past Jack's head as suddenly his adrenaline reached levels of insanity…

_They're shooting, why the hell are they shooting us!?_

Him and the crowd of soldiers managed to get around the corner, Jack almost losing grip on the Doctor as he swerved behind the wall for cover.

"They're shooting at us!" Jack voiced out loud, absolutely bewildered that they'd fire seemingly without any prior orders.

"Sir," one of the soldiers began, stepping forward. "I advise that we hold this position, you get the Doctor to the helipad. Privates Sykes and Ford will go with you."

Jack considered that for all of half a second, instinct making him desperately want to get involved in the fight. But the weight of the precious cargo in his arms seemed to get even heavier in the moment, and he abruptly realised he had utterly no choice.

"Okay, good luck," he breathed, and turned to leave with two soldiers aiding him. They ran down the corridor, leaving the chorus of bullets behind them, until they met another crowd of army soldiers at the end of the next corridor.

"Halt or we'll fire!" one shouted.

"Where are they coming from!?" Jack gasped, looking at Sykes and Ford in alarm.

"Get the Doctor out of here!" Sykes yelled, and began to fire.

Jack turned, the decision of the next move already made for him. He began to run, but suddenly felt a piercing pain right in the small of his back. He was thrown forward, the Doctor falling out of his arms onto the hospital floor below.

* * *

><p>The Doctor snapped open his eyes, meeting Jack's pained expression as he lay on the floor, staring at the Time Lord pleadingly. He said something, throwing out his hand and pointing down the corridor before he passed out.<p>

The Doctor's head was utterly compromised, he knew that - voices screaming in a foreign language inside his skull, the shields that had once protected his telepathic abilities were now no longer able to be built, and the entire world was _screaming._ For a moment he could only lie there and cry out, the voices so loud and hurting his had so much that it was desperately hard to tell his own body what to do.

It was only when a bullet whizzed over his head did he prompt himself to move, desperately ripping all the IVs out of his arm and getting into a crawling position. Pain shot through his still healing arm but that barely mattered as he dragged himself around the corner.

The voices subdued, just a little and not enough. He could barely tell his own thoughts from the others - lost in amongst the screams of many creating a terrible chorus in his skull. For a moment he forced himself to breath, trying to get his shields back up again, but he couldn't do it. He felt compelled to pull off the collar around his neck and the bandage around his head, throwing them across the corridor before he tried again, but it made no difference. He grabbed his own head, feeling the stitches of a fresh incision on his head, and by instinct dragged his fingernails right through it, as if it would help him to concentrate, but the pain was lost to him.

_I've got to run. I've got to run._

He forced the repeated phrase to circle around his head, desperately trying to bring his own thoughts to the forefront of his mind. He dragged himself up to his feet, and began to run. Well, he could have been running or walking, he couldn't really tell, but he was definitely moving. Any pain in his leg was utterly cancelled out by the repeated thumping inside his skull, but the voices were beginning to quieten the further he moved, so he kept going to the end of the corridor, where suddenly the pain increased, his vision went white and he fell to the ground, crying out.

He grabbed his own face, but it felt like someone else's hand entirely.

He had to concentrate.

_My telepathic area has been forced open and I can't close it. I'm just suffering until it stabilises. Aren't I?_

His own thought sounded so reassuring in his head, but it wasn't helping on any physical level. He could feel his body spasming but he could do nothing to stop it as he finally drew his hands away, and saw his hands were covered in blood, as was the floor below him. He was hemorrhaging from his nose; quite badly. His entire brain was turning to soup…

Suddenly the voices increased in volume and he forced himself to look up, his awful vision just about picking out a crowd of people running towards him. By instinct he knew these people were not on his side.

They yelled something, but he ignored it - he had to go. He forced himself up again, about to take a step forward when suddenly one of them fired something that hit him in the shoulder, and suddenly he felt like he was on fire. Electric. They'd tasered him…

The pain in his head increased to tenfold and he heard himself scream, aware of falling to his knees. Even though his eyes were closed he could see the outside world, some of the people moving forward to him before suddenly…

The pain disappeared.

Some sort of gold light seemed to wash out in front of him, but where was it coming from? He couldn't think well enough to work that out when the gold light seemed to throw all of the people surrounding him about five foot in the air, slamming them into the ground before all went silent as the light disappeared.

_I think that was me._

The drunken thought barely had time to register before the world disappeared into utter blackness.

* * *

><p>Donna had just finished her limited Year 6 First Aid medicine when suddenly she heard screams from down the corridor that sounded quite a lot like the Doctor. She barely had time to get to the door before some sort of golden explosion rippled out, smashing in the windows in the room.<p>

"What the…" she began, and quickly checked her alien companion still on the floor, who was looking a bit worried. She darted out of the door and looked in the direction of the problem, to find the Doctor surrounded by unconscious army soldiers, a golden energy dissipating from around him before he hit the floor.

"Did you see that!?" Donna gasped, looking around at the alien. "I didn't know he could do that!"

The alien was on its feet now - quite a feat seeing as it was still bound up. It followed her gaze.

"Jarkk-ta'klorr?" it said. It sounded like a question.

"No idea," she responded, but it was suddenly very apparent that whatever had happened had obviously not been good for him as blood seemed to be gushing out of his nose, ears and eyes, forming a very rapid puddle below him and soaking half his head in red. Donna was about to run forward, when suddenly a bright blue light shot out of the heavens and an alien materialised in front of her.

She froze. She was utterly helpless. This was it. She was going to die.

But the alien wasn't looking at her, it was looking at the alien behind her - its kin - and began to make a strange, rasping, hissing noise.

If Donna didn't know any better, she'd say it was laughing.

* * *

><p>"By Krysos!" Har-sox said to Krax-lox, laughing. "They actually <em>caught <em>you!"

Krax-lox whimpered. "A human shot me, Har-sox," he moaned. "They tied me up and one of them tortured me."

Har-sox roared with laughter again. "And I supposed you told them everything they wanted to know?"

Krax-lox fell silent, looking at the floor.

"Oh, you make me laugh," Har-sox said, still hissing with laughter. "And you're supposed to be your Father's son? The heir to the Chiefdom? Maybe now Chief Sha-kla will see what a useless runt you really are. You couldn't even kill a defenceless Time Lord on a planet of inferiors."

"I'm sorry," Krax-lox replied, still staring at the floor.

"Pathetic," Har-sox said, turning around to the Time Lord lying on the floor. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Wait!" Klax-lox said quickly, and Har-sox turned back around, waiting. "... Will you help me escape?"

"Um, no," Har-sox replied wistfully.

Klax-lox's eyes widened. "But… I can't get out without you."

"I'll just have to tell the chief that you're dead, won't I?" Har-sox replied, turned, and went straight to the Time Lord.

"Please, Har-sox!" Klax-lox begged.

Har-sox just laughed again as he took the unconscious Time Lord's arm and vanished in a transmat.

* * *

><p>Until that moment, Donna had been too terrified to move. Now she was cursing herself - the alien had taken the Doctor god knows where. He'd be dead before she knew it, and she'd done <em>nothing <em>to stop it.

"Oh no," she moaned, running forward to the space they'd disappeared. "No!" She looked up at the alien desperately. "Where'd it take him!?"

The alien just stayed silent.

"Please," she begged, running back to it. "Tell me where it took him!"

Then, to her complete surprise, the alien began to cry.

"Oh…" Donna muttered, completely wrong-footed. "... You all right?"

It looked at her, then looked back at the floor again as it continued to sob.

"Hey… it's okay," Donna found herself saying, resting a gentle hand on its uninjured shoulder. "Why…"

Then she stopped, realising why it was crying.

"Oh my god," she murmured, gazing at it. "Your friend just laughed at you and left you here, didn't it?"

The sobbing answered her in plain English.

For a long time she just stared at it, wondering what to do. As the sobbing began to subside, she decided, as usual without much prior thought, on what to do.

"Okay," she muttered, and moved around to the back of it. It was still flinching at her every move, but not as half as bad as before. "I'm gonna untie you. Please don't hurt me."

She slowly and carefully undid all the ropes, one by one, until the alien was left standing there completely free. It turned to look at her, clearly very confused.

It could attack her if it wanted to.

"I need to get to wherever your friend took the Doctor," she said slowly and clearly. "And you need to get back to that other alien and kick his head in, right? Just… help me now and kill me later. Please?"

The alien tilted its head, looking at her. "Shakklak ta-klarz'mar?" it asked.

"I have _no _idea what you're saying," she told the alien honestly, trying to communicate that in a mime. It got it, nodding, before pulling something out of its pocket. Donna flinched a little purely at the thought of what weapon it had hidden, but it pulled out a slim silver box that looked decidedly unthreatening.

It mimed pressing the button, and pointed to the sky, followed by its hand moving across the air - spaceship. From its mime, she figured that it was some sort of teleportation device to its ship.

She nodded. "I get it. Okay."

The alien took hold of her arm and made to press the button.

Suddenly she realised what she'd done. She'd arranged a teleport onto an alien ship, with a snake that was probably going to kill her when they got there, and even if she escaped that she'd have to sneak her way through an complex spaceship to look for and rescue a Time Lord that was probably already dead.

_Smart plan, Donna._

She had a habit of that, acting before thinking. She couldn't pull this rescue attempt off. Why hadn't she thought to call Jack? Or even UNIT?

She was _so _dead.

* * *

><p>The newly revived Jack ran around the corner just in time to see Donna and the alien vanish in a beam of blue light.<p>

"Donna!" Jack cried, throwing out his arm. But it was too late.

She was gone, and she'd probably be dead within about ten seconds.


End file.
